


Rushing Water

by naps4bats



Series: Beomfleet [1]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anglo-Saxon, Cozy sweaters with or without hoods, Explicit Sex, F/M, Flirting, Legal Drama?, Obscene amounts of caffeine, Oral Sex, Paperwork, Pastries and other baked goods, Prison Abolition, Romance, Sex, Smut, Snow, Swearing, Violence, implied emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naps4bats/pseuds/naps4bats
Summary: Modern AU of Aethelrik:The northern island of Beomfleet has broken free from Saxon control. Sigefrid Thurgilson emerged as the leader of the militia and has now held power in Beomfleet for several years. His younger brother Erik serves as his security officer. The tenuous peace between Beomfleet and the mainland, Wessex, is threatened by the high-profile trial of Uhtred Bebbanburg. Aethelflaed Engels is the lawyer hired to defend Uhtred. She is also the daughter of Alfred Engels, the Prime Minister of Wessex, and the fiancee of Aethelred Mercer, a prominent businessman from the south of Wessex. When Erik is assigned to serve as Aethelflaed’s security for the duration of the trial, their burgeoning relationship brings to light their dissatisfaction with their current lives and with the systems they are serving.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Erik Thurgilson
Series: Beomfleet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155278
Comments: 43
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new! Hope you like it. Definitely owe some inspiration to WildWren's great versions of Aethelrik.

“The trial starts in two weeks.”

Erik dropped the pen he had been fidgeting with and looked across the table at Lene, his brother’s head of communications. Today’s briefing was already running long and they were only now breaching the subject of the trial.

Sig leaned back in his chair, tense with impatience. “Why are we bothering with this again? Can’t we just execute him or something?”

Erik flinched at his brother’s words. Executing prisoners wasn’t exactly what he’d fought for.

“This trial is important.” Lene said. “It shows your people that we’re holding Uhtred accountable for his role in Ubba’s death and for the failure in Lunden. And it also proves to other countries, Wessex especially, that we can be taken seriously. The trial is a civilized–” Sig rolled his eyes at Lene’s choice of word, “a civilized procedure. It shows that we are willing to follow the rules, cooperate. To a point.”

Sig sighed. “Right, right. And if Uhtred is found innocent?”

“Then we let him go. We get Wessex off our backs for a while and move on to better things.”

“Have they chosen a defense attorney?” Erik asked, hoping to speed things along before Sig’s temper got the better of them all.

“Yes, they sent word this morning. Aethelflaed Engels.”

Sig sat up. “Engels?”

“Alfred Engels’ daughter,” Lene continued.

“What does that mean?” Erik asked.

Lene leaned forward. “It means two things: one, they are taking this very seriously. Aethelflaed Engels is a damn good lawyer. She’s been out of school five years and she’s already won landmark cases. And two, they want eyes on this. Aethelflaed is well-known beyond her career and there’s talk about her following in her father’s footsteps. People will be watching this case closely.”

“So what?” Sig stood and paced the room. He had too much energy to be cooped up in boardrooms, but Erik knew he wouldn’t leave the major decision making to anyone else.

“So we need to be in control of the situation,” Erik answered and Lene nodded. “We have some famous, hotshot lawyer coming here for the trial _and_ she’s the prime minister’s daughter. We need to know what she is doing at all times–if anything happens to her here, it will be a major strike against us, and if we let her out of our sight, there’s no telling what might happen.”

“Good, then it’s decided.” Sig wasn’t one for long discussions. “Erik, you’ll handle her. Accommodations, transportation, security, whatever she needs while she’s here, you’re in charge.”

“What am I, a babysitter?”

“No, you’re my security officer,” Sig snapped, reacting to Erik’s griping tone, “and this woman is a security risk. If anything happens to her or because of her, it is on you.”

Erik nodded.

“Lene, I want you to remind them of our conditions–he’s getting a Saxon lawyer, not a legal team. Engels comes alone and she works alone. She can call any witness she wants, but she is the only one handling the case.”

“Do you want her arrival details?”

Sig waved his hand impatiently. “You manage her arrival, and once she’s off that plane, she’s Erik’s problem. Are we done?”

“We need to talk about the media for the trial,” Lene said, a little reluctantly. She was pretty knew to the job and she took Sig’s moods too seriously.

“You two can work that out. I have to go. And Erik? Fight tonight, at the hall.” Sig didn’t wait for a response, just left the room and shut the door behind him.

Lene sighed. “Do you ever worry that he doesn’t want to be bothered with a decision, but if you make the wrong one, he’ll blame you for not consulting him?”

Erik laughed. “No need to worry about that, Lene, that’s exactly what happens. It’s happened to me and it will happen to you.”

“So he’ll forgive me?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re still here.”

“I’m his brother. You’re not.” Lene groaned. “Don’t worry. You know your shit. And we’re in this together: if it goes wrong, I’ll take the blame.”

“Will that work?” she asked, hopefully.

“Probably not.” He caught a peek of the long list before her. “Looks like we need more coffee if we’re going to tackle all that. Down the street? It will give you a chance to shake off that feeling.”

“The paralyzing fear of failing Sig Thurgilson? I don’t think a five minute walk and a coffee will fix that.”

“Ah, then I’ll throw in a brownie. Come on.”

* * *

While Aethelflaed packed, Aelswith hovered.

“You won’t need that, dear, it’s not very professional.”

“I won’t always be in a courtroom, mother.” Aethelflaed responded, grabbing the hoodie and tucking it back in her suitcase. Though she was nervous about her trip, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of excited about spending time away from her mother. When Aethelflaed had finished school, her parents had pressured her to move home, insisting that it was safer. She was already high profile enough because of her father’s career in politics, but with the kind of work she wanted to do–contentious criminal cases–she’d have an even bigger target on her back. Living at home, on her parent’s huge estate with its security team and meticulous protocols, she would be safe and sound. Besides, they insisted, the house was big enough that she could have her own space. Of course, Aelswith found excuses to occupy that space every day, leaving Aethelflaed feeling like a moody teenager.

Aethelflaed wanted to move out, but she had argued with her mother enough to know that there were endless reasons _not_ to: Why would she give up precious time with her parents when the future–of both her and her father’s careers–was so unpredictable? Why would she deprive her younger brother of such an excellent role model? Why would she add the expense of security by requiring a whole team of her own? And most importantly, why would she go to the trouble of setting up her own place when the wedding was so soon? Within the year, she’d be running a house all her own, starting a family.

But her marriage to Aethelred was not the light at the end of the tunnel. The micromanaging that Aelswith excelled at: Aethelred was pretty skilled at that, too. Moving in with him would be nothing like living on her own. That realization bothered Aethelflaed more than she cared to admit. And lately, she had noticed a pattern; she wasn’t comfortable talking to Aethelred about anything serious. Instead, she would play out the conversation in her head, anticipating all his retorts and biting remarks until she was too exhausted to even try. It was an all-too-familiar feeling, one she’d felt when she was preparing for college and wanted to move away or study something other than political science and law. Then and now, she was so wary of what other people wanted that she didn’t even voice her own desires.

This trip, though, was something she wanted. Her job was the one place she was comfortable speaking up. She’d gone after this case, lobbied for it. Now she would be spending weeks, maybe even months, on the small northern island of Beomfleet. She’d never been there, but she’d heard enough about it. The island had been in dispute for decades, both Saxons and Northmen trying to claim it as their own. For most of her life it had been under Saxon control, though with a primarily Norse population. But a couple of years before, a Norse militia had staged a coup, wrestling power from her father’s government. Ever since it had been ruled by Sigefrid Thurgilson, one of the leaders of the coup.

The coup was the root of this case: reclaiming Beomfleet had only been part of the militia’s scheme. They had planned an attack on Lunden, a coastal town on Wessex’s north shore and the major port between Beomfleet and Wessex. The mainland part of the coup had failed–quite spectacularly–leading to the death of militia leader, a man called Ubba. The Northmen were eager for someone to blame, and they had chosen Uhtred. He had been on the outs with Wessex at the time, making friends in the Norse communities where he was raised. Sigefrid Thurgilson claimed it was Uhtred who had leaked the plans for Lunden and coordinated the Saxon reaction. Uhtred was being charged on two counts: treason against Beomfleet and the murder of Ubba. It fell to Aethelflaed to defend him.

The job would be challenging. She’d be in another country, where she didn’t speak the language, working everyday on a case that could change the future of international relations. Aethelflaed wasn’t particularly worried about being far from home and on her own; in fact, she was sure she’d focus better and work harder without her family and Aethelred occupying her headspace. But she was nervous about the pressure of the case and the culture shock she would experience in Beomfleet. It was this anxiety that motivated her to push back against Aelswith, just this once.

“Mother, I am perfectly capable of packing on my own. I know what I will need to feel comfortable in Beomfleet. How about you go find that bible, the one from my uncle? I’ll meet you downstairs in a little bit and we can have some tea before it’s time to go.”

Aelswith folded, happy to have a truly Christian task to occupy herself. “Aethelred will be arriving in an hour.”

“Why? I won’t have time to see him before my flight.”

“He’s taking you to the airport.”

Aethelflaed opened her mouth to protest, but then imagined Aelswith’s argument: _You need to spend some time with your fiancé before you spend months apart. He took the afternoon off work just to drive you. He’ll be heartbroken if he misses you._ And then she asked herself the real question: why _didn’t_ she want to see him? It was part of a half-formed thought, a twisty gut feeling she’d been ignoring for weeks now. She wasn’t yet ready to address it. So one more hour with Aethelred. What was the harm?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done away with Danes in this story, just making everybody Norse.

Erik met Lene at the small airport, where she was giving a statement to the waiting press.

“Quite a fuss over nothing,” he commented when she was free to talk to him.

“Nothing? I don’t think Sig would assign his top security officer to _nothing_.”

Erik just shrugged. He was feeling…something about this assignment. Boredom? Resentment? It wasn’t just about the work; he could understand why Aethelflaed Engels was important and why she needed to be watched closely. This feeling had more to do with him and Sig, how much their relationship had changed since Sig had taken power. Until then, they had been partners in all things, equals. Now, there was a hierarchy. But Erik didn’t want the power, exactly. He didn’t envy the decisions Sig had to make and the attention on Sig at all times. It was more that he resented Sig’s expectations of him: that he would agree with his brother, that he would do as he told, that now that they were the leaders, they would operate with the same ambition and force that had brought them to the top. Erik felt that he had spent the last decade working towards something, only to achieve it and realize he didn’t want it at all. But what he _did_ want–well, that was still a mystery.

As Lene left to direct a security guard, Erik took a deep breath. Ok. He had this assignment for the next few months. One person to handle each day, one task to focus on. Maybe this was his opportunity to step back, figure out exactly where he wanted to go next. By the time Aethelflaed Engels went home, he would be ready to leave this post. He would be ready to deal with Sig.

Before deplaning, Aethelflaed took some time to check her hair and switch her comfortable hoodie for the nicer jacket she had stowed above her seat. It was habit, engrained in her since she was a child. Always look good, always be ready. Don’t walk into any situation unprepared.

But as she walked across the tarmac, she realized just how unprepared she was. It was freezing. How could it be this cold, this early in the autumn? There was snow on the ground and it soaked through her suede flats in a few steps. Aethelflaed thought about the contents of her suitcase. On top of her work clothes, there were some running shoes and a rain jacket. She had been so focused on the case that she hadn’t considered the actual climate in Beomfleet. If it stayed this cold, or, much more likely, got even colder, Aethelflaed would need to do some shopping.

She was relieved to enter the airport and feel the rush of warm air. The building was mostly empty, but there was a small crowd of reporters waiting behind a short, competent looking woman.

“Miss Engels. I’m Lene Svenson, head of communications. I’ll be handling media during the trial.”

Aethelflaed shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Those reporters, do they want to talk to me?”

The people behind Lene were taking photos and calling out questions, but they were speaking Norse, so Aethelflaed couldn’t understand.

“Yes, but they don’t need to. What’s there to ask now? You’re here, but the trial hasn’t even started. They can take some photos and we’ll set up interviews with a translator at a later date.”

Aethelflaed appreciated Lene’s directness. Her family would never turn down an opportunity to speak to the press, even when there was nothing to say.

“If it’s alright with you, I’ll tell them your flight was good and you’re looking forward to getting to work, yes?”

Aethelflaed nodded her consent and Lene turned to address the reporters. Aethelflaed stood still for a moment, giving them a chance to snap some non-blurry photos, then stepped away, looking around her.

“Bathroom is to the left.”

She turned to see a tall man. He had the unmistakeable posture of a soldier, impeccable posture and hands clasped behind his back, but his blond hair was styled in an undercut, shaved short on the sides and left long on top, with a blond lock falling over his grey-blue eyes. And he wasn’t wearing a uniform, but a black parka open over a white henley. There was the hint of a tattoo poking out from the collar of his shirt. He was handsome. As soon as she thought this, Aethelflaed mentally shook herself. She was not in the habit of evaluating the attractiveness of people she met. 

“Bathroom?” she asked, a little puzzled as to how he knew what she was looking for.

“You just stepped off a plane. You need to use the bathroom. Go ahead, Lene has them handled.”

“Thanks,” she said, and awkwardly dragged her suitcase towards the bathroom door, feeling his eyes on her.

Erik had seen pictures of Aethelflaed Engels. He had spent the last week reading up on her, learning everything he could in preparation for her arrival. He had seen her in a white communion dress, standing next to a severe looking clergyman. He had seen her looking solemn and proud during her father’s swearing in. He had even seen her in a sparkling silver outfit, posing at her engagement party. So he wasn’t surprised by the look of her: brown hair in a neat bob, face with little or no makeup, professional attire. She was exactly what you imagined when you thought of a high-powered lawyer or a prime minister’s daughter–pretty in a polished sort of way. But seeing her in person, up close, she was…different. She had a sprinkle of freckles high on her cheeks, shadows under her eyes, a scar on her chin. She wasn’t just a picture-perfect politician in training. She was a real woman, and a beautiful one at that.

He waited for her to emerge from the bathroom, standing close enough that she would have to pass him on her way out, but far enough to not seem, well, creepy. Behind him, he could hear Lene dismissing the reporters, promising them future interviews and casually ignoring their questions on other topics. Aethelflaed Engels came out of the bathroom, dragging her suitcase behind her. He reached out for the handle.

“It’s alright, I can take it.”

Erik stepped back, leaving the bag to her. “Good. Car is this way.”

“And you are?”

He paused. _Very smooth, Erik._ “Erik Thurgilson. Security officer.”

He offered her his hand and she shook it, slowly. He noticed how cold her fingers were.

“And Sigefrid Thurgilson’s younger brother?”

“Unfortunately.”

She smiled at his half-hearted joke.

“Erik will be your point person while you’re in Beomfleet,” Lene explained, joining them. “He will see to your safety at all times.”

Aethelflaed grimaced. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not here to enforce your bedtime. I’m here to make sure you are safe and able to do your work. Think of me as your driver, translator, tour guide, and bodyguard, all rolled into one.”

Aethelflaed was still frowning. “Are you really meant to keep me safe, or are you meant to watch me?”

“Why not both?”

Lene intervened again, accustomed to smoothing conversations and moving things along. “Don’t worry, Miss Engels, Erik is excellent at his job. And this way Thurgilson doesn’t need to worry about anything happening to you while you’re on our territory.”

“Of course,” Aethelflaed said, regretting her pushback. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Thurgilson.”

“Erik,” he corrected. “Car is outside. Let’s go. See you later, Lene.”

Aethelflaed said goodbye to Lene and followed Erik out into the cold.

After a short drive, with Erik in the passenger seat speaking to the driver in a steady stream if Norse, and Aethelflaed in the back, they arrived at a newish-looking residential building. Erik led Aethelflaed to the top floor and into a small but well-furnished apartment: her residence for the duration of the trial.

“We’ll provide everything you need. This apartment, of course. There’s a gym down the hall. You make a list for shopping, leave it on the fridge and someone will do it for you while you’re at work. Any technology you need, we’ll get set up here or in your office at the courthouse.”

“A car?”

“You’ll have a driver, usually me. We ask that you don’t go anywhere on your own.”

“You’re asking me not to, or telling me not to?”

He just grinned at her. “Anything else you can think of, just let me know.”

She thought for a moment. “Church. Is there a church? Christian, I mean. I go every Sunday.”

He frowned. “There are...a few. Not exactly in this part of town. And security would be tricky.”

“So I can’t attend church?”

“Do you want to attend church?”

“It would look very strange if I didn’t. Even here–there is a Christian population, after all. I’d be expected to keep up my worship.”

“But do you _want_ to?”

She considered the question. One semester in law school, she’d stopped going. It had taken some lying–lying to get out of church, sins upon sins. She’d told her roommates she was attending the early morning services and they were never awake to confirm. She’d assured her mother that she missed her church acquaintances because she took in the later service. For three months–three glorious months–she’d spent Sunday mornings in the botanical gardens, slipping in just as it opened and finding a bench to sit and read or just wandering the paths, learning the names of the plants. But then someone in her family had spoken to the priest and her truancy was exposed. Aethelflaed had ended up lying again, insisting that she was so stressed with school that she was taking Sundays to study. Next semester she’d been back in the pew, breathing in the stifling air.

“I suppose, if it’s going to be trouble, I can miss it. But your communications person should have an answer, when she’s asked.”

“Do you really think the media will ask about that, with everything that’s going on?”

“They will definitely ask.”

Erik furrowed his brow. “A private priest. That’s a thing, right? One that makes house calls, like animal doctors that come to your house to treat your horse?”

Aethelflaed couldn’t help but smile. “Not quite the same, but yes, some priests serve certain people.”

“There we have it. Lene will say we’ve found you a priest, one who will come and…”

“Lead me in private worship once a week. Twice a week, if you want it to sound extra impressive.”

“Twice a week under Sig’s watch? No. Once a week.” Erik stood to go, but then turned back. “Speaking of Sig, you’ll need to meet him. Sometime this week, over dinner. Or drinks, if he’s in a mood.”

“Is that really necessary? I’m just a lawyer here to do a job.”

“You are also the daughter of the Saxon Prime Minister, so basically a visiting dignitary. Isn’t that why they sent you?”

She bristled a little at that. “They sent me because they want to win.”

“Of course, my apologies,” Erik said, raising his hands in surrender. “But you will need to meet with him. More than once, likely.”

Aethelflaed chewed her lip, thinking. “Will you be there?”

“Of course. I’m very important, you know. Nothing happens without me.”

She smiled again. She was doing that quite a bit around him. “Alright. Just give me some warning, yes? I want to be prepared.”

“I’ll do what I can, but Sig isn’t one for schedules. If I like you, I’ll give you some tips on how to manage him.”

“And if you don’t like me?”

“I’ll throw you to the wolves.” He grinned for a moment, then stood up straight, transforming into a serious officer. “Anything else, Miss Engels?”

“Aethelflaed. And no, thank you.”

He nodded. “Keys are on the table, as is my number, guards down the hall and in the lobby, someone will be by tomorrow morning to check on you.” Erik opened the door, then looked back. “And Aethelflaed? Don’t go anywhere.”

* * *

Aethelflaed spent a surprisingly cozy night in her new apartment. She sent off an email to her family, ensuring them that she arrived safely, then took a long hot shower, banishing the chill that had stuck with her since the airport. After eating a quick dinner, courtesy of the well-stocked fridge, she explored every inch of the place. Staring out the window at the city spread out below her, Aethelflaed felt a thrill of independence. She had this place all to herself. No one was waiting on her. No one was commenting on her hair or choice in food or outfit–thick socks, leggings, and a sweater with the hood up. She could just _be_ , with no one else’s expectations.

But the silence was something to get used to, so she turned on the radio. The low murmur of Norse was reassuring and she left it on all night, letting the voices lead her into a deep sleep.

Aethelflaed was struggling with the coffee maker (why so many buttons?) when the phone rang. She followed the sound, but couldn’t find its source. The ringing stopped, leaving her standing in the small living room, frustrated and under-caffeinated. Then it rang again. She tracked it to a side table, hidden under the jacket she had tossed there the night before. Without staff to pick up after her, Aethelflaed’s natural messiness would reign supreme.

“Hello? I mean, hello, Aethelflaed Engels speaking.”

“You shouldn’t answer the phone with your full name. What if I was an assassin looking for you?”

It took her a moment to recognize Erik’s slightly raspy voice. “Do assassins often call their victims on the phone?”

“If their victims identify themselves so easily, it seems like a decent strategy.” He paused, as if waiting for her to respond, but she did not. “You missed my call earlier. Everything alright?”

“Yes, I couldn’t find the phone.” Aethelflaed was surprised to hear herself admit it so easily.

“It was the thing on the table, making noise.” Erik’s tone was mocking, but not mean.

“I had accidentally hidden it under my jacket,” she explained, unnecessarily. “Can I help you with something?”

“That’s exactly why I called: your jacket. It’s not warm enough. Do you have something warmer?”

“No, I don’t suppose I do.”

“And your shoes, I noticed them when I was leaving. Did you bring boots?”

“I brought running shoes.”

“Not good enough. You’ll need some better gear. I’ll be by in about an hour, we can go find you some things. Ok?”

Aethelflaed would have to get used to his abrupt nature. “Yes, ok.”

“Good. Goodbye, Miss Engels.”

“Aethelflaed. Wait, Erik, I…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t understand the coffee maker.”

She heard him laughing. “We’ll figure it out when I arrive.”

“Thank you.”

It took Erik less than thirty seconds to get the coffee brewing. Aethelflaed stood by, feeling a little humbled. “How did you figure out which button to press?”

He motioned her forward and pointed to the icon next to the button. “See? Coffee cup.”

“I thought that was a square for stop. Like ‘stop, no more coffee.’”

He looked at her oddly. “It says ‘on’ next to it.”

“I can’t read Norse,” she admitted.

“Well, here is your first lesson. På means on, and the cup shape means cup.”

Aethelflaed frowned at him. “Thank you. Do you want a cup?”

“Yes. With milk.” He watched her opening and closing cupboards, then reached past her to open the pantry. “Sugar?”

“You’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you?”

“I unpacked the groceries yesterday.”

She poured the coffee and passed him his mug, sitting on a tall stool next to the island. Erik leaned on the counter across from her. “That seems like an insignificant job for the brother of the leader.”

Erik just shrugged. “Most of my officers have been eating in barracks and cafeterias for years. I couldn’t count on them to stock a kitchen.”

“What about your secretary? Don’t you have a secretary?”

“Of course I do, but she is busy managing the office. Running errands is a little below her pay grade.”

His response surprised her. It was strange for someone of his rank to take on mundane tasks. Aethelred’s philosophy was why do something yourself when someone can do it for you.

“Though I think I overlooked something in my shopping. It looks like you have a bit of sweet tooth, and I didn’t buy any sugary snacks.”

Aethelflaed realized he had watched her heap three teaspoons of sugar into her coffee. The wet shoes and light jacket and now this. He was very observant. She would have to be on her guard.

“Here is the plan,” Erik said, standing up straight, “we get coat, boots, hat, gloves, scarf. The boots will take a while, so then we stop at the bakery. Sandwiches for lunch. You like sandwiches, right? Of course you do. And snacks for later. You’ll need them this week. I’ll show you some of the local sites. Then back here, and I’ll let you be for dinner.”

Aethelflaed peered at him over her coffee mug. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Until this case is settled, you are my job.”

“Is that some kind of a punishment from your brother?”

“I guess we’ll see.” His grin filled his whole face, bringing out the fine lines around his eyes. Aethelflaed felt a spark of pleasure at making him smile like that.

The morning went as Erik had planned, with one significant surprise: Aethelflaed was excellent company. He had expected her to be stiff and reserved, but Aethelflaed was witty and quick to laugh. He had worried about ordering her around, but she was easygoing and took his direction without protest. And while most Saxons he’d met had been forcefully opinionated, whenever he asked Aethelflaed a question, she took her time, thinking it over before offering her answer. This woman was not what he’d imagined. In fact, Erik could not have conjured up someone so amiable.

Aethelflaed happily wore her new winter clothes out of the store, stowing her inadequate shoes under the car seat. Erik was driving her himself today, better for sightseeing. She peered down at her new boots, smiling. “They’re so comfortable!”

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring something more substantial. You have heard of winter, haven’t you?” Erik had already fallen into a habit of teasing her, which she didn’t seem to mind.

“It is barely November. And I don’t own anything like this. No need for it back home. I guess I could have shopped before my trip, but I was focused on trial prep. Besides, I would have naively bought things that looked ‘nice’ instead of felt warm, so I’m better off this way.”

Erik stopped the car and glanced over at her. “You look good like that.”

Aethelflaed realized she had pulled the hood of her coat up, her vision fringed with fur. She sheepishly pulled it back. There was something about Erik that unsettled her, though that wasn’t quite the right word. She was always careful, hyperaware of her image and the opinion of others, but with Erik she felt that control slipping. She knew he was watching her, carefully, and probably reporting everything back to…someone. And yet he made her feel at ease.

“Lunch. Are you ready?”

She zipped up her coat. “Ready.”

The bakery was small and cosy, quiet in the mid-afternoon. Erik enthusiastically greeted the woman behind the counter. When the woman said something to Aethelflaed, Erik replied in Norse. She wondered what he was saying. Was he explaining who she was? No, a security officer would be more cautious in public. Would the clerk recognize her? She caught sight of her reflection in the window: hair loose around her shoulders, staticky from the hood of her coat. She didn’t look like Aethelflaed Engels, prime minister’s daughter.

“What do you want to eat?”

She joined Erik at the counter. He helped her order, translating the menu, then accepted a cup of coffee from the clerk. “I drink a lot of coffee,” he said by way of explanation. “Now: snacks. Choose some.”

“I don’t need snacks,” Aethelflaed replied, though she was already gazing longingly into the bakery case.

“What is need? We don’t have this word in Norse. We only understand want. Do you _want_ some cookies? Brownies? The pastries are very good. You can have one of mine. I’m getting half a dozen pastries and a piece of cake. And a few brownies, for Lene. She only likes me because I give her brownies. I don’t really get the whole chocolate thing. It’s good, yes, but what about vanilla? Or almonds? Or honey? I love honey. There’s this place near the courthouse, they make this honey cake. I’ll take you there.” He trailed off. Aethelflaed just stared at him. “What?”

“Nothing. I’ll take cookies to go and cake for today.”

“And one of my pastries.”

She laughed. “And one of your pastries.”

While they ate lunch, Erik taught Aethelflaed how to read the menu, explaining the sounds associated with each letter. He sounded out the consonants and laughed as she struggled to imitate the noises. Soon, they were rising to leave with two large paper bags of baked goods. Erik paused to use the bakery phone, calling into his office. Aethelflaed watched his expression shift, from the friendly smile he used with the clerk to the serious expression of a disciplined soldier. He listened, said something, then hung up.

“Sightseeing will have to wait,” he told her, waving goodbye to the clerk and holding open the door. “I have a last minute meeting. I’ll drop you back at the apartment.”

Aethelflaed felt a tug of disappointment, but ignored it. She needed to work on the case, after all. She’d be meeting with Uhtred tomorrow. She needed to review her notes and prepare questions.

Erik was quiet on the drive back, his brow furrowed as if he were thinking carefully.

“Thank you for this,” Aethelflaed said, after a long silence.

“For what?” he asked, not looking away from the road.

“For…taking me to get gear and food.”

“Like I said, this is my job.”

“I don’t think it’s your job to share pastries and help me pick out warm hats.”

He smiled a little. “Security takes a lot of forms. Besides, we’re going to spend a lot of time together. Might as well be friendly, right?”

That’s what this was, him doing his job, being friendly. Nothing more. Aethelflaed needed to stay focused, not waste her time thinking about his eyes and trying to make him laugh. This was just a job for her too.

Erik pulled up in front of the building and honked. The lobby guard came out, ready to see Aethelflaed from the car door up to her apartment. Not a moment unwatched. But it was the same back home, wasn’t it? She awkwardly gathered her things, including the bag of baked goods, her new winter clothes, and the shoes she’d stowed under the seat, and climbed out of the car.

“Adjø, Aethelflaed,” Erik called, as she was about to shut the door. She nodded. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Sigefrid being Sigefrid, Aethelred being shitty, talk of prison.

“What’s she like?”

It was evening and Sig was passing Erik a beer. The afternoon’s trouble–a threat against a church in the west end–had been handled, and Erik was feeling tired.

“Engels? She’s…nice. Professional.” Erik was lying a little. He couldn’t tell Sig what he really thought. _She’s incredible and I need to see her again, soon_.

Sig rolled his eyes. “What’s she _like_ , Erik? Her father is the thin, sickly type. Daughter the same?”

Erik shrugged, not liking the question, although he shouldn’t expect anything different from Sig. “She’s pretty enough. Not really your type, a little conservative.”

Sig leaned forward, looking Erik in the eye. “Are you gonna fuck her?”

Erik took a swig of beer to keep himself from overreacting. “Didn’t realize that was part of my duties. Besides, Sig, she’s here to work.”

“I work hard. Never stops me. Sometimes you can do both at once, you know.”

“Yes, well, we don’t need any extra trouble. This trial could go either way.”

Sig smirked. “That’s just it, Erik. You get close to her, it throws her off, right? Distract her with that tiny dick of yours. She loses the case, you get laid, it’s a win-win.”

Erik felt the urge to punch Sig. Granted, that wasn’t unusual. They were brothers and aggressive ones at that. But lately, there had been more of an edge to Erik’s irritation with Sig. He hadn’t always liked his brother, but now he struggled to respect Sig.

“Talk to me about the next fight,” Erik said, hoping for a topic change. “Is that kid fighting again? I’d put money on him. He’s got something.”

Sig took the bait, excited to talk about the weekly boxing match.

Hours later, as Erik slouched through the snow back to his house, a new compulsion wove through his thoughts until it settled in his chest, a steady refrain. _Keep her safe_.

The next morning, Aethelflaed was up early, ready to meet Uhtred. He was being held at the penitentiary outside town until the trial began and she knew it was a decent drive. As she drank her coffee, she skimmed through her email. There were files she’d requested from her paralegal, a long email from her mother, a note from her father’s secretary, and a single line from Aethelred: “Booked Saint Francis, June 5th.” Not even half a dozen words and it made her heart sink. For weeks now Aelswith and Aethelred had been at odds over the venue for the wedding. Aelswith and Alfred expected the ceremony to take place at the cathedral in Winchester, the site for all the government’s religious ceremonies. It was a prestigious venue and it made a major statement. Aethelred, however, wanted the wedding in his hometown to the north, at the church of Saint Francis. It was a smaller cathedral with its own long history, a history tied to Aethelred’s family, not Aethelflaed’s. Holding the wedding there would be seen as a snub on Winchester, so Aethelflaed’s parents were against it. But Aethelred was insistent. Aethelflaed had tried to stay out of it; just the thought of arguing one side or the other tired her out. But neutrality was not an option. Aethelred seemed to view this as some kind of power struggle. It was, she supposed–a moment when the authority passed from the parents to the husband. Of course, it bypassed Aethelflaed entirely.

Their last conversation, on that painfully long drive to the airport, had been about the venue. Aethelred had been explaining the significance of Saint Francis: how much it meant to his dearly departed parents, how it would signify the union between the north and Winchester, how much more intimate it would be without all the Winchester elite and press. Aethelflaed had been zoned out, until Aethelred snapped his fingers right in her face, aggressively drawing her attention.

“I need you to listen to me.”

Aethelflaed sat up, taken aback. “I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind. The trial starts in less than a week and I have so much planning left–”

“When I speak, you listen. This is our life, Aethelflaed, not some case.”

“Some case? This is the biggest trial of the decade. How I perform in that courtroom will change my career.”

Aethelred smiled rather, that smile that used to seem charming but now reeked of condescension. “You’re Alfred Engels daughter. It doesn’t matter what you do in that courtroom, or any courtroom. You’ll always have a career as long as your father asks for it.”

If they hadn’t pulled up to the airport then, Aethelflaed would have done something terrible. Wouldn’t she? She had to, right, after he spoke to her like that, dismissed her like that? But then again, she’d never pushed back before.

He’d walked her to the gate, his hand gripping her own too tightly. He smiled for the cameras and embraced her. “We’ll talk on Thursdays, 7 pm.”

“If my schedule permits,” she murmured, pulling away. She went through the gate without looking back.

Now, Aethelred had made his move and booked the church. He could use her absence as an excuse: so helpful, taking care of the wedding planning so she could focus on her work. He’d leave it to her to tell Aelswith. She was already dreading that conversation.

There was a knock on the door and she went to unlock it. “You don’t have a key?”

Erik came in, shrugging off his coat. “Course I do. But it’s not polite to walk into someone’s space.” Meanwhile, he was helping himself to some coffee and settling into the soft armchair. Aethelflaed shut her computer and joined him.

“Forty minute drive to Fangi Penitentiary,” he said, straight to business. “You can bring a pen and notebook, no coils. No laptops. No cameras. You need ID, but don’t bring much cash. You’ll have to check your wallet and you can’t trust the guards.” He looked her up and down. “Outfit is good. Tie up your hair, though.”

Aethelflaed had visited clients in prisons before, but it always made her nervous, and there were always slightly different rules that had to be carefully followed. She was grateful to have Erik there to prepare her.

“Finish our coffee, then go, yes?”

“You speak in fragments, you know that, right?” He looked puzzled. “Whenever it’s work related, you don’t use full sentences. Not enough time?”

To her surprise, Erik blushed a little. “I’m not so comfortable in English. I guess I want to use as few words as possible. Less likely to fuck up.”

“You speak so well, though. You barely even have an accent. And I’m not judging you. I don’t speak a word of Norse.”

“That’s not true, you know the word på. Or did you make coffee today through some kind of happy accident?”

“See? Happy accident! Who can speak like that in another language? You have nothing to worry about.”

Erik still looked embarrassed. “Yes, well. I’ll work on using full sentences if you try to learn some Norse. Good?” She stared at him. “Does that sound good?” he corrected.

“That sounds good. På!”

He laughed. “God. Good is _god_.”

“How very Christian.”

Getting into the prison took a long time. It always did. But finally, Aethelflaed was in a small room with Uhtred, while Erik and the guard waited on the other side of thick glass. She had the urge to hug him–she had never seen him in a professional context, only as a family friend–but she held back. He looked rough, a messy beard on his face where he was usually clean shaven, hollow circles under his eyes.

“Strange to think a baby elf is going to defend me in court,” Uhtred said, a gentle smirk on his face. Those words from anyone else would have triggered Aethelflaed’s fight instinct, but she had too much affection for Uhtred. He’d been around a lot when she was growing up and he’d always teased her, claiming she was just an elf that Alfred and Aelswith had taken in as a baby. He used to tug on her ears, asking why they weren’t pointy, and make jokes about her special powers. Ten-year-old Aethelflaed had loved the attention. To his credit, as she grew up, Uhtred changed the way he treated her, recognizing her maturity and agency without fully letting go of their old jokes. He always respected her.

Uhtred was the main reason she fought to get this case. Aethelflaed missed him and worried about him. He had a family of his own, children and a wife, though they’d fallen out of favour with her father and moved out of town. She needed to fight for him and do her best to get him safely out of this situation.

“Don’t worry, Uhtred. I’ve got all my elf powers working for your freedom.”

He smiled a little sadly. “Gisela?”

“I have a letter from her. I can’t leave it with you, but I can read it. And some drawings from your kids. Do you want all that before we talk trial, or after?”

“Before,” he responded eagerly. “You never know when they’re going to cut a visit short.”

Aethelflaed nodded and shuffled through her papers, finding the folded letter and two crayon drawings. She held each paper up towards the glass, waiting for the guard’s nod before she showed them to Uhtred. When she read Gisela’s letter (it was always odd to be in the middle of these intimate exchanges, but it felt extra uncomfortable when she knew both parties so well) Uhtred leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, smiling at the little jokes snuck into the letter.

She gave him some time after the letter, leaving the drawings on the table where he could see them. He exhaled slowly, then leaned forward. “Let’s start.”

They talked for an hour before the guard intervened, running through all the charges laid against Uhtred. Aethelflaed explained how the first few days of the trial would go, ensuring that Uhtred knew what to expect. They would have more time to talk once he was in Beomfleet proper, transferred to the centre close to the courthouse. Aethelflaed jotted quick notes on what she needed to do next.

As she prepared to leave, the guards clearing their throats impatiently behind her, Aethelflaed leaned forward. “If there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m on your call list now and I can lobby for you.”

“Lobby to who? I’m not exactly well-liked, Aethelflaed.”

“Erik,” she whispered, her eyes shifting to where he stood outside the room. “He seems like a reasonable man. Am I right?”

Uhtred sighed, thinking. “Yes, I think so. He’s fair, for a Northman.”

“Well, he likes me, so if you need something, you ask, ok?”

“I’ll take you to the courthouse now so you can get set up,” Erik said as they emerged from the penitentiary. Aethelflaed blinked at the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow. Her thoughts were back inside, with Uhtred. He’d been in solitary for 97 days, he said. 97 days confined to a few square meters of concrete. It made her feel foolish for resenting her fancy house and privileged life. But she couldn’t get caught in negative thought circles. Uhtred was counting on her to see a way out of this.

They’d been on the road for a few minutes when Erik glanced over at her. “You need some quiet to think through the interview?”

Aethelflaed turned to him, a little startled, like she’d forgotten he was there. “No. Actually, I need some distance before I can think productively. We can talk. Maybe tell me a story? If you want.”

Erik nodded. “I was in that penitentiary before.”

“For work?” she asked, assuming he had visited in his capacity as security officer.

He frowned. “No. Well, indirectly. Fourteen months for theft, which was how I was making money back then.”

Aethelflaed was surprised. She knew a little about Erik and Sigefrid’s life before the coup, but she didn’t know about this. She didn’t know what to say, but Erik kept talking.

“It wasn’t such a nice place then. Overcrowded, shitty plumbing. And the food was awful. I lost so much weight, came out of there looking like a freaking scarecrow. I used to lie in my bunk, thinking about Helga’s bakery and all that delicious food, driving myself mad. I thought I was strong, you know, when I went in? I could take a punch, I could drink anyone under the table. But physical strength doesn’t do you much good in a place like that. You need some emotional resilience. Back then, I had very little.”

“I thought you were military.”

“I wasn’t recruited until I was released. Sig joined up while I was serving my sentence, so he put in a good word for me. But I didn’t really need it. The militia was taking lots of ex-cons, especially from Fangi, or Watling, as it was called then. Those guards were such pieces of shit. You could walk into your cell loving the Saxons and you’d come out a diehard separatist. Your father set up his own little rebel factory, though I’m sure that wasn’t his intention.”

“My father?” Aethelflaed had a sick feeling in her stomach.

“Alfred Engels was the Minister of Justice back then. Watling was set up under his direction.” Aethelflaed stared straight ahead, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Erik looked at her out of the corner of your eye. “You didn’t know that.”

“I knew he was Minister of Justice. I just didn’t know he was involved in the prison system up here. I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about his career.”

They drove in silence for a few more kilometres.

“I’m sorry,” Aethelflaed whispered.

“For what?” Erik’s tone was gentle, but she didn’t look his way, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

“For…Watling. I don’t believe in that, you know? Incarceration. I think it’s a lazy, violent way to deal with our problems. That’s why I work criminal cases. I’m sorry you went through that.”

Erik smiled, thinly. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t tell me to rob that fucking truck. You didn’t sentence me. You didn’t even advise your father on Watling, unless you were a very involved child. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“But I benefited from it. I know about Watling, about places like it. Saxons–my family profited off that system. That’s an awful way to get ahead in the world.” She thought for a minute. “It’s better now, then? The prison?”

Erik shrugged. “A little. Better living conditions, but still pretty dangerous. I pushed for improvements, right? I thought Sig would too. But turns out, he wants his enemies punished just as much as anyone else.” He turned into a parking lot, pulling into a space in front of a coffee shop. “We shouldn’t discuss this anymore. I think it’s best we don’t talk about the case. I’m just here as security; I’m not here to get involved in your work.”

Aethelflaed nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense. But it touches everything. We’re going to keep circling around it.”

“Not if we focus on coffee. Coffee?” Erik smiled at her, his grin a little forced as he attempted to change the topic.

“Coffee,” she agreed, grinning back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Aethelflaed are going to keep bonding over baked goods and their desire to abolish all prisons.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty pleased with this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it! Lots of gratuitous clothing talk. Here is a [pinterest board](https://pin.it/6yK17Sk) of some of the outfits I imagined in this chapter, if you're interested. I have a lot of this story already written, so I'll be posting chapters pretty frequently.

The first days of the trial went reasonably well, though working in Beomfleet took some adjustment. Aethelflaed wore a small earpiece so that she could she could hear the simultaneous translations of some out of sight interpreter. Her own interpreter was out in the open, translating everything she and her Saxon witnesses said into Norse. She was used to building momentum based on the reactions of her audience, so the lag between her words and their understanding was difficult, at first.

Even more difficult was her opponent, the lawyer on Beomfleet’s payroll. She was a tall, solid looking Norse woman. You would think she’d just stepped out of a gym or out of a boxing ring, except for her flawless appearance: perfectly curled hair and dramatic dresses. Aethelflaed was certain this woman could beat the shit out of her. But this wasn’t a physical competition and Aethelflaed had her own strengths. She could talk circles around the opposing counsel, finding all the holes in the case against Uhtred and calmly, carefully, tearing them open.

Aethelflaed’s days had taken on a kind of routine. Erik was there each morning, early enough to share a cup of coffee before taking her to the courthouse. Between court sessions, she got tiny windows of time with Uhtred. He stayed hopeful–or at least did a convincing impression of optimism. He kept her going with his jokes and determination. And at the end of her day, there was Erik again, ready to take her home or to some corner of the city he wanted to show her. She would get back to work in the evenings, frantically typing and reading in her apartment, but she still felt as though Erik bookended each day. His easy smile and eager kindness grounded her, making everything else feel more manageable.

* * *

Court let out early on Thursday, giving Aethelflaed time to get back to her apartment and change before dinner with Sigefrid. She was stuck on what to wear. She didn’t want to stand out too much–though her style was nothing like the style in Beomfleet. She was rummaging through her suitcase when she heard Erik’s knock and she called him in.

He found her in her bedroom looking a little panicked, nothing like the composed, competent women he’d seen in court. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. Aethelflaed looked him up and down, searching for clues, but he was just wearing dark jeans and a cream sweater, knit in a cable pattern. It was the perfect outfit, clean and casual. She had nothing like it.

“What’s wrong?”

She groaned and dropped the handful of clothing she had been clutching. “You told me, Erik. You said you’d give me tips on how to handle Sigefrid, if you liked me. You like me, right? You have to help me.”

Erik was a little startled that she remembered. It had just been a joke. But now…it wasn’t, really. He did like her. A little too much.

“I don’t even know where we’re going! Is it formal? Is it a dive bar? Help me!”

He covered his smile with his hand. “Ok. Breathe.”

“Are we going to be late?” she said, ignoring his suggestion.

He checked his watch. “Yes.” Aethelflaed groaned again. She was adorable when she was nervous. “But it’s my fault, not yours. I just got here.”

“I am never late. This is awful.”

“It’s not. First of all, it lets you off the hook, right? We’re already going to be late, so you can take your time preparing. Second of all, Sig is notoriously late. So you can be stressed out here instead of stressed out for an hour at a table.”

“He’d let me wait for _an hour_?” This was unheard of in Aethelflaed’s world.

“Once he was two days late picking me up from the hospital.”

“I would never leave you in the hospital! Who is this man?”

Erik chuckled at her distress, which she did not appreciate. “Aethelflaed,” he said, sitting down on the floor beside her. “I need you to breathe. Can you do that?”

She took three loud quick breaths, like it was a competition.

“Slower. Count to five in, then count to five out. And while you do that, you can listen to me.”

She grimaced but then did it, slowing down her breaths. She closed her eyes, her eyelids shifting a little as she counted in her head.

“Sig is…a lot. But I know how to handle him,” _most of the time_ , he thought, but didn’t speak that part aloud, “and I won’t let you flounder, ok? I’m your security. I’m here to keep you safe. Even from him.” He wondered how true that was, in the long run. “Let’s break this down. Clothes: go simple. Jeans, top–that blue one you wore under the blazer. That one is good.”

Aethelflaed opened one eye, peering at him. He was observant, yes, but remembering her favourite camisole? That was…something else.

“Next, introductions: be firm, with your handshake and your words. He respects that. Don’t be too timid. Conversation: he jumps from topic to topic _a lot_ , so if he asks you something you don’t like, just change the subject. Or signal me and I’ll do it. I’m used to it.”

“Signal you? How?” she considered it. “I could bite my lip?”

Erik imagined having to watch her mouth all night. He felt a throb, somewhere deep and low. No, that was a bad idea. “A cough is good. Just cough and I’ll jump in. If you don’t know what the hell Sig is talking about, just laugh. I mean, not like, _hysterical_ , but…uh…”

“Flirty,” she finished for him.

“I didn’t want to say that.”

“But that’s what you mean. That’s how women deal with him, right?”

“If you’re not comfortable–”

“I’m a young woman in politics and law, Erik. I’m not naive. I know how to flirt my way out of a shitty conversation.”

He swallowed, embarrassed by his own naivety. Of course she did.

“Ok: blue camisole, firm handshake, change topic, laugh. Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t bring up Christianity. He might, at some point, but we can steer away from it. He’ll push drinks, but just hold up your glass like your toasting him and he won’t notice if you don’t actually drink it.”

“This is a lot. I got less instructions when I used to babysit.”

“That’s not such a bad comparison, actually.” Erik stood up. “You ready to get dressed?”

Aethelflaed nodded and reached out her hand, wordlessly asking for him to pull her up. Her fingers were cold again, just like that first handshake, and he felt the foolish urge to warm them, to rub them between his own and breathe on them. He released her hand, a little too late, and left the room.

They got lucky, arriving at the restaurant a few minutes before Sig and Lene did. Lene must have muscled her way into an invitation. Erik knew she wanted to be involved in everything to do with the trial. He couldn’t quite figure out why; maybe she just wanted to make a good impression and secure herself a more stable role in Beomfleet’s government. Erik couldn’t relate to that desire, not anymore.

As the other two entered the restaurant, Sig’s voice booming across the small space, Erik leaned towards Aethelflaed.

“One last thing: if he gets angry, don’t take the bait, ok? Just stay calm.”

Aethelflaed looked worried. “Is he going to get angry?”

But Sig was upon them now, and it was too late for Erik to answer. He gave her a little shrug and turned to greet his brother.

“Gods, Erik, couldn’t you dress up a little?” Sig said while patting Erik’s sweater-ed back. Aethelflaed noticed Sig’s outfit was more casual than Erik’s.

Sig turned on her, shaking her hand with a grip that was a little bit terrifying.

“Welcome to Beomfleet, Engels!”

“Thank you, Mr. Thurgilson. It’s good to be here.”

“Call me Sig. Sit, sit. Let’s get drinks.”

They all settled around the table and ordered. Erik asked for a water and Sig scoffed, ordering his brother a beer instead. There was a short silence, then Lene asked Aethelflaed how her stay had been so far. They chatted happily for a few minutes, though Aethelflaed could feel Sig’s presence. He was like a pot simmering on the back burner, likely to boil over and splash everyone with scalding water. It made her nervous, but she tried to focus on Erik. He was so relaxed and steady, as if to balance his brother’s tension. He was leaning back with his arm looped over the back of the chair, a position that seemed to defy gravity some how, with his legs sprawled to the side. Casually taking up space.

Sig seemed to notice this posture just when Aethelflaed did, and was suddenly annoyed. Maybe he wanted to be the biggest presence in any room.

“Can’t you just sit in a fucking chair for once, Erik?” he snapped, interrupting Lene mid-sentence.

Erik smiled innocuously and sat up a little straighter. There was an awkward, grating silence.

“Is that your thing? Your dynamic?” Aethelflaed asked Sigefrid, surprising even herself, “You criticize everything Erik does and he just shrugs it off?”

More silence. The drinks weren’t even here and she’d already fucked up. Could she talk her way out of it?

“I have a very similar dynamic with my mother,” she continued, keeping her tone light. “It’s a family thing, I guess. We can’t help but poke at each other, maybe because we know each other too well.”

All three of them stared at her. Lene looked horrified. Erik looked amused. Sig looked…well, Aethelflaed didn’t want to read his expression too closely.

“Did you just compare me to Aelswith Engels?” he asked, his voice hard.

“She’s a very impressive woman. It was meant as a compliment.” _Sort of._

“You just compared me to the most pious woman in Wessex. That’s just really fucking–” he stopped short and they all waited, the entire night hinging on his next word. “That’s ingenious. Is that how you take down your opponents, Engels? Hit them where it hurts before the conversations even started. You must be something in court. No wonder they fucking sent you.” He shook his head and laughed. The entire room seemed to relax. “I like that. We should watch out, Lene. She’s vicious.”

The drinks arrived and Sig took his, still chuckling. Erik shot Aethelflaed a look like she was the most incredible, stupid person in the world.

The dinner went well after that. Aethelflaed’s misguided comments seemed to loosen everyone up. Sig kept lapsing into Norse and Aethelflaed would smile and sip her wine. He started in on the church, just as Erik had predicted, and he seemed to be goading her, waiting for a reaction. She just laughed, dismissing it as “a very boring topic,” and coughed so Erik could wrangle the conversation in a smoother direction.

After they ate, Sig went out for a smoke, dragging Lene with him. He didn’t seem like a man who liked to be alone. Aethelflaed and Erik were left at the table. She released the tension in her shoulders. It reminded her of her first few cases, when she’d emerge from court and return to the safety and solitude of her car or her office, relieved that the performance was over. That’s how it felt to be with Erik–like she could turn it all off. He was a soft landing place. He was the gentle waves amidst the sea storm of her life.

He turned sideways in his chair, facing her. There were just inches between them and his knees could have grazed her thigh. That wasn’t romantic, right? There was nothing sensual about brushing up against someone in a crowded restaurant, she told herself. Aethelflaed took a long drink of water.

“You’re good at this,” he said, leaning forward, even closer.

“At what?”

“At talking to him. I’m impressed. I didn’t think there were many men like Sig in Wessex.”

“There aren’t. He is one of a kind. But you prepared me well.”

Erik smiled, like he was pleased with himself. “Now that you’ve survived your first few hours of Sig, I have an invitation for you. There’s a party, next week. A celebration of winter solstice. You’ll come, right? I was supposed to invite you days ago, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Is it a particularly scary party?” Aethelflaed teased.

“It might be, if you’re not used to how we do things. But you can handle it.”

“Then I’ll come. But I need more information. Like, should I find a dress? Or do you party out in the snow, under the northern lights?”

“Nah, we stopped that after some guys lost extremities to frostbite. You can wear whatever you want.”

She gave him a pointed look.

“Ok, you should probably get a dress. Lene can help you, if you like. She knows that stuff better than me.”

“What, you’re not my personal stylist as well as my security officer?”

Sig and Lene returned to the table, catching them both off guard. They drew apart and Sig gave Erik a direct look that Erik deliberately ignored.

“Lene, Aethelflaed needs a dress for the party next week. Could you help her?”

Lene smiled. “Of course! I know some stores. I can take you out this weekend.”

Sig cleared his throat, drawing all attention back to him. “There’s a hockey game tonight. You coming, Erik?”

“Nah, it’s getting late. I should get Aethelflaed home, then I’ll catch up on some work.”

Sig grinned. “Yes, you should make sure Miss Engels finds her way to bed.”

Aethelflaed flushed.

“Well I’ll see you on Saturday, Aethelflaed,” Lene said, smoothly, “and we’ll all see each other at the party. I’ll handle the bill, the rest of you get on your way.”

Aethelflaed hugged Lene goodbye, giving her a grateful squeeze, then made her way quickly to the door, avoiding any last exchange with Sig.

When they reached Aethelflaed’s building, Erik joined her in the elevator. She tilted her head at him.

“You following me home, Thurgilson?”

His face split into a grin. “It’s my shift tonight.”

“Your shift?”

“Guard duty,” he said, nodding towards the small office set up down the hall from her apartment.

“You’re going to stay there all night? But you’re the boss.” Aethelflaed was feeling a little tipsy and extra bold.

“Yes, well, I’m a hands-on boss. Don’t assign my guys any task I won’t do myself. So tonight, I get the privilege of sitting in that room and keeping you safe.”

They were in the hall now, the moment when Aethelflaed should say goodnight and unlock the door. But she didn’t. She lingered, close to Erik.

“Everything alright? Sig didn’t scare you too much, did he?”

“No, he was–more charming than I expected.”

Erik felt an unexpected lurch in his chest. Sig had a way with women. He never went home alone, not if he didn’t want to. Could Aethelflaed, smart, funny Aethelflaed, really go for him? But Erik’s burgeoning jealousy was put to rest by what she said next.

“Come in, sit with me for a while.”

“I’m sure you’re tired.”

“I asked you in, didn’t I?” she gazed up at him and he felt himself melt, just a little. Gods, this woman.

“Just for a little while. I don’t want to keep you up before a big day in court.”

“I have nothing to drink but tea. And coffee, I suppose, but who drinks coffee at this time of night? You would though, wouldn’t you? Point is I have no beer or wine or anything.” Aethelflaed was speaking while searching through cupboards. Once again, Erik reached over her, knowing exactly where the tea was stowed.

“I don’t drink on the job. Besides, this is my favourite kind of tea.”

“Of course it is. You bought it.” She snatched the tin from his hands. “Sit, I’ll brew.”

Aethelflaed carried the teapot and mugs into the living room a few minutes later. Erik looked too big for the room, likely because he was perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch, back straight, hands folded.

“At ease, soldier. I’m not going to do an inspection,” she joked, hoping to relax him. But there was a flirtatious edge to her words that she heard too late and he just looked more uncomfortable. His stiffness was a strange contrast to how he acted each morning, breezing into the apartment and pouring himself a cup of coffee while chatting with her about the day ahead. Aethelflaed needed to take a breather. She excused herself to change, trading her skirt and blouse for a hoodie and an old pair of jeans. When she re-emerged, Erik was looking more relaxed, sitting back on the couch with a steaming mug in his hands.

“You’re not like him,” she said, picking up the tea he’d poured for her. Erik looked up in confusion. “Sig? You look so different and your personalities–you don’t seem like brothers.”

“The looks? Different dads. He’s my half-brother, I guess, but we never thought of it that way.” He took a drink and set his mug on the table. “And I wouldn’t be so sure about our personalities. We’re pretty similar.” Aethelflaed frowned incredulously. “You don’t think so?” She opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it again. Erik chuckled. “Go ahead, tell me what you think.”

“Sig is pretty…aggressive. He reacts quickly and clearly. And loudly. You’re not like that.”

“So I’m passive, slow, and quiet?”

Aethelflaed shook her head, laughing. “No, no, there’s more nuance to it. You’re more careful. You notice everything, but you don’t jump to assumptions. And when I got here, you asked me what I wanted. You always ask. You never assume. You never order me around. I’ve never known anyone like that. You’re…gentle.” She looked down, embarrassed at her honesty.

“Well, you can see which of us is in power.”

The phone broke the uneasy silence. Aethelflaed answered it immediately, eager for an interruption, until she heard the voice on the other end. She winced, stood up, and paced into the kitchen, speaking curtly. Erik concentrated on the tea, but listened closely.

“I was out for dinner with Sigefrid Thurgilson…Well, I couldn’t exactly say no, he’s the leader of Beomfleet…And I told you it would depend my schedule…Tonight was part of my job. If you’re trying to tell me you miss me or you were worried about me or something, you’re doing a pretty terrible job of doing it.” There was a long silence as she listened. Erik half-rose, pointing towards the door, a wordless suggestion that he should leave. Aethelflaed shook her head firmly and waved him back down. “It’s late. I have to get some sleep before court tomorrow. We’ll talk this weekend, yes?…No, I was not ignoring your calls, I just wasn’t here to answer the phone. Tomorrow night. I’ll be waiting by the phone. Goodbye.”

Aethelflaed hung up and tossed the phone onto the couch. She sat down and rubbed her eyes.

“Sworn enemy?”

“What?” she said, looking up at Erik.

“It didn’t sound like a good conversation. I figured it was your greatest enemy. Unless I’m your greatest enemy. In which case, I should be jealous that someone else is getting on your bad side.”

Aethelflaed smiled in spite of herself. “No, no, just…family.” She stared down at the floor, as if considering something, then tucked her feet under her decisively. “You researched me, right? That’s your whole thing. You know who that was.”

“I…suppose I do.” Aethelflaed stared at him expectantly. “Aethelred Mercer. Finance degree. Businessman. Heir to Mercer holdings. Set to wed Aethelflaed Engels this May.”

“June. I pushed it back. Again.”

“Why?” Erik instantly regretted the question. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t know. I guess…I wanted Uhtred to be there. He’s one of my oldest friends. Even if I win this case, he won’t be out until late spring, so…and now we’re in forbidden territory. No trial talk.”

“What’s he like?”

Aethelflaed sat up excitedly. “Uhtred? He’s a big goof. He used to–”

“I meant Aethelred.”

“Oh.” Aethelflaed was embarrassed by her mistake. “He is handsome. And rich. And ambitious. He’s not exactly…”

“Gentle,” Erik finished for her. She nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Erik stood up and walked to the kitchen. “I want coffee after all. How about you?”

Aethelflaed rolled her eyes. “I actually intend on sleeping tonight.”

“I’ll drink your share, then.”

* * *

On Saturday, Lene picked Aethelflaed up in a car driven by a severe looking man. More security, Aethelflaed thought. Always watched. She was about to ask where Erik was, but caught herself. Lene was too smart. She would see through Aethelflaed’s question, no matter how innocent it sounded. _See what?_ Nothing had happened between them. Sig’s innuendo was just an assumption, not the truth.

Lene took her to a small, stylish shop, the walls lined with cocktail dresses. Lene consulted with the clerk, a beautiful older woman with long grey hair. Aethelflaed awkwardly ran her hand down a silk dress while the two women appraised her. The older woman beckoned her over.

“Skadi has some ideas for you,” Lene said, listening to the woman’s steady monologue and picking out what to translate. “She says you’re a size 8, yes? But with a smaller bust. She says you have good collar bones, so something low cut, that can show them off.”

Aethelflaed self-consciously reached up and touched her collar bone. She did not know that bones could be good or bad.

“She will pick some things out for you,” Lene continued, “but you can look around, see if there’s anything you particularly like.”

“Will she _let_ me pick out my own dress?” Aethelflaed asked uncertainly.

Lene laughed, a bright tinkling sound. “Probably not.”

Aethelflaed wove in and out of the racks, tentatively touching the clothes. This felt like some kind of test: what would Aethelflaed Engels wear to a party? She knew what she would wear back home. She had a whole closet full of modest formal outfits, lace and satin in pastel hues. They were usually paired with cardigans or shawl-like scarves. But nothing fit that description here. And besides, a rebellious part of her was tired of looking like her mother.

She pulled out a dress in dark pink with a high waist and a full skirt. She tried to picture herself in it, imagining how the skirt would move, maybe revealing a hint of thigh. She draped it over her arm and continued browsing.

Soon after, Skadi herded her to the dressing room. Skadi’s arms were overflowing with garments. Apparently Aethelflaed would be trying on half the store. Skadi peered at the dress in Aethelflaed’s arms. She muttered something in Norse and tugged it away from Aethelflaed.

“No?” Aethelflaed asked, as Skadi hung the dress on a rack of returns.

“She says you’re a grown woman, not a child going to a middle school dance,” Lene explained. Aethelflaed’s face must have fallen, because Lene smiled sympathetically. “You’d stand out in that, and not in a good way. Don’t worry, we’ll find something you can be comfortable in while still blending with the crowd.”

Over the course of the next half hour, Skadi handed Aethelflaed dresses over the door of the fitting room. Aethelflaed dutifully tried them on and emerged to see herself in the floor-length mirror, or, more importantly, in the judgemental gazes of Skadi and Lene. The dresses were daring where Aethelflaed was not, and she found herself tugging at the fabric, willing it to cover just a little bit more skin. When Skadi enthusiastically praised a bright red dress that made Aethelflaed feel like she was wearing a bathing suit, she began to feel frustrated. Lene caught site of her clenched fists and intervened. She explained something to Skadi. Skadi nodded and slipped off, returning with a black dress with a drop waist and intricate beading.

When Aethelflaed re-emerged from the dressing room, Lene clapped in delight, a rare show of lightness from the otherwise poised woman. Skadi nodded firmly. Apparently, this was the dress. Aethelflaed took a deep breath and turned to the mirror. She looked stunning. The neckline was low without making her feel uncomfortable. The fabric hugged her body. The beading sparkled a little, reflecting the light.

“Skadi wants to talk shoes,” Lene said.

“I have black pumps I can wear.”

“No, those are work shoes. You need something with a little more glamour.”

Now that she had found the dress, Aethelflaed was tired. “Can’t she just choose something for me? Size 8. Not too tall!”

Lene followed Skadi, who’d already ducked into an alcove crowded with fancy heels. Aethelflaed gazed at her reflection in the mirror, feeling a shimmer of recognition. _This_ was what Aethelflaed Engels would wear to a party. She could feel beautiful in a dress like this. A warm, dark part of her hoped Erik would see it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik is having trouble with chairs. They are a technology he has not yet mastered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual harassment.

It was late when Aethelflaed made it back to her office at the courthouse. Uhtred was back in the holding centre after a long meeting with Aethelflaed. She had more leads, which was hopeful, but also more questions without answers. She was tired and hungry and already planning another weekend of research and prep.

She heard a knock, Erik’s trademark series of raps, and she let him in. He leaned against the door, watching as she shuffled through papers, sorting what she needed to take with her and what she needed to leave behind.

“Long day?”

Aethelflaed sighed, finally looking at him. “Long day.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper bag, offering it to her. She accepted it, confused, and peered inside.

“You brought me a cookie.” Her voice was flat; in her tired state, she couldn’t properly express her gratitude.

“Two cookies, actually.”

“Erik. Why?”

“I saw you in court this afternoon. You looked a little tired. I thought you would need a dose of sugar to get you through the party.”

“The party. Right.” Aethelflaed sighed and rubbed her eyes, dreading the evening ahead. Then something Erik said gave her pause. “I can’t believe you noticed I was tired.” She stared at him, her brow wrinkled as if she was considering him in new light. “I guess that’s your job, though. To notice.”

Erik suddenly looked sheepish. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his shoulders a little hunched, and he looked younger. Handsome, still, but softer.

“It’s a part of my job. But even if it weren’t…when you’re in the room, I don’t notice anything else. Your voice, your face, the way you move: I can’t look away. It’s like I’m trying to memorize you. As if I would ever forget you.”

Aethelflaed was motionless, worried that slightest movement might break the spell of this moment. After a whole day of talking, she was out of words. What could she say? How could she acknowledge what a gift it was to be seen by him? But she didn’t have to speak, because in another instant, he was kissing her. He broke the kiss, looking her in the eyes, an unspoken question. She answered him with another kiss.

A few moments later, he pulled back. “We need to stop. You need to get changed.”

Aethelflaed winced. “My dress! It’s back at the apartment–” Erik held up a bag. “You brought it?”

“Shoes too. Full service security, here, Miss Engels. Now, eat your cookies, get dressed, we leave in ten.”

When he handed her the garment bag, their fingers touched, and something inside Aethelflaed unclenched. All the stress of the day, of the weekend ahead, seemed miles away. There was just this touch and the promise of more.

Aethelflaed glimpsed the party from the lobby and immediately felt underdressed. Her black dress and heels were no match for the glitter of beautiful people inside. She stepped into the bathroom, slipping off her coat and peering at herself in the mirror. Her hair was straight today–if she’d had more time, she would have added some curl. Her earrings were the simple studs she always wore to work, one less thing she had to think about, but she wished she had something fancier.

A woman came out of the stall and washed her hands. She was gorgeous: blonde hair cropped short, a gold cuff on her ear that matched the hoop in her nose. Her eyes were done with dramatic black shadow and liner and she pulled out a tube of lipstick, touching up her lips in scarlet red. Aethelflaed envied these Norse women, and men, too, for that matter. She had been raised to be pretty, nothing more. Not bold, not extravagant, not edgy. Just enough makeup to look naturally flawless.

The woman met her eyes in the mirror and Aethelflaed blushed and looked down, sorry for staring. But the woman smiled and asked something in Norse.

“I’m sorry, I only speak English.”

The woman nodded, subtly looking Aethelflaed up and down, considering her.

“Do you want some?” she asked, holding out the lipstick.

 _Yes_. “I wouldn’t know how. I’ve never worn much makeup, but it looks beautiful on you.”

“Takke.” The woman gathered her purse, as if to leave, but then stopped. “I’ll do it for you.”

“You don’t have to…” Aethelflaed protested halfheartedly, but the woman was pulling things out of her clutch and leaning towards Aethelflaed.

She started with the eyeliner, gesturing for Aethelflaed to look up while she carefully lined the lower lash line. “My name is Alva,” she said, while drawing an expert wing on Aethelflaed’s upper lid.

“Aethelflaed.”

“Nice to know you.” Alva reached for lip liner and traced Aethelflaed’s lips. “Saxon?”

“Yes.”

“Strange for you to be here. Sig doesn’t like Saxons. Does he know you are here?” Alva asked, switching to the red lipstick.

“He does. I don’t think he’s happy about it.”

Alva waved a hand dismissively. “Sig is not happy about anything. Not true: he likes fighting and sex. But I don’t recommend either.”

Aethelflaed laughed. Alva took her by the shoulders, turning her back towards the mirror. “Good, I think.”

“Yes, thank you.” Aethelflaed smiled.

Aethelflaed emerged from the bathroom and passed off her coat to an attendant. She turned around to find Erik waiting. When he saw her, his face broke into a wide grin. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed in a breathless way.

“You look beautiful,” he said, finally. 

She walked towards him nervously. “I thought I might need the extra armour before I go into battle.” She almost reached for his arm, but remembered where they were and held back. He was still staring at her. “Erik? Should we go in?”

He blinked. “Yes, yes we should. Do I have a stupid grin on my face?” She nodded, blushing. He cleared his throat, stood up straight, and clasped his hands behind his back. “How’s this?”

“There you are: the very serious soldier.”

But the moment she stepped ahead, leading the way to the hall, he was smiling again.

It was barely nine but the party was already loud and boisterous. Erik wove through the crowd, Aethelflaed just a step behind. They reached Sig, who seemed to be holding court next to the bar.

“Erik!” Sig pulled his brother into a tight hug, then shoved him aside. “Engels!” He wrapped Aethelflaed in a bear hug and she made a face over his shoulder at Erik. Sig stepped back, holding Aethelflaed at arm’s length. “You clean up good,” he said, looking her up and down. “Not like my sloppy brother here. Look at him! We’re at a party and all he can do is put on a sweater?”

“My nicest sweater,” Erik clarified. He must have looked a little foolish next to Sig, dressed in a fine suit.

“What do you think, Engels? Is Erik’s outfit acceptable?”

Aethelflaed took the opportunity to stare at every inch of Erik, putting on a faux critical expression. “He looks…warm.”

“Warm doesn’t get women,” Sig objected.

“It does if they are very cold,” Aethelflaed countered.

“And you, Miss Engels, are you feeling cold tonight?”

Aethelflaed felt herself flush under Sig’s stare. Erik interrupted, smoothing over the moment. “We need vodka to warm up.”

“Drinks!” Sig cheered, spinning around and slapping his hand on the bar. “Shots, three of them.”

He passed the small glasses around and downed his fast, instantly turning around for another. Aethelflaed held her glass nervously, then caught Erik’s eye. “You don’t have to,” he mouthed behind Sig’s back. She shook her head, took a deep breath, and gulped it down. She had never done a shot before. It burned down her throat but settled in her stomach, a bracing warmth. Erik laughed and drank his.

The night went on, full of speeches, laughter, and jeers. Erik was pulled in every direction by friends and comrades. Aethelflaed stuck close to Lene, who wove in and out of conversations with enviably ease. Lene also had half a dozen tricks for avoiding drinks, ensuring she and Aethelflaed both stayed reasonably sober through the many rounds of toasts and shots.

“So, how is she?”

Erik was downing a glass of water, already regretting the last shot Sig poured for him. “How is who?”

Sig made a face and gestured over the the corner, where Aethelflaed was standing. “I thought she was a little plain, a little dull. But tonight, she looks good. Fun. Is she a decent fuck?”

Erik turned away, pouring himself more water, giving himself time to manage his anger.

“Erik, come on, you’ve been with her every day. If you’re not getting laid, then what’s the point?”

Erik swallowed, turned, and shrugged. “She passes the time. You’re right, though, a little dull.”

Sig patted his back in commiseration. Erik felt vaguely sick. “Maybe you can teach her something, eh?”

Mercifully, another man grabbed Sig’s attention before the conversation could get any worse. Erik leaned with his back against the bar and looked across at Aethelflaed. She met his gaze and smiled, a sweet, content smile. He felt like a bastard.

Aethelflaed smiled across at Erik, but he dropped his gaze. What did that mean? Could he be bored of her already? She looked around at the crowd, wondering how she could measure up to all these beautiful, bold people. She felt a frantic feeling rise in her chest, like she was losing him. _He’s not even yours to begin with_ , she chastised herself, but she was already making her way through the thick crowd of dancers, pushing to get to him.

An arm snaked around her waist and she shook it off, thinking it was just someone confused in the melee. But the hand gripped hard, fingers digging into her side. There was hot breath on her neck as another arm came around, pulling her tight against someone’s chest.

“Stop,” Aethelflaed said, but her voice was barely audible in the loud hall, and in English no less. She froze, not even trying to get out of this man’s grip as his beard tickled her ear, too close. He was laughing, too loud. He was muttering something in Norse and by the path of his hands, she could guess his meaning.

“Aethelflaed, I need you! Come to the bathroom with me.” Aethelflaed stood still as Alva took her by the hand, pushing the man off her. Alva said something sharply to the man, shoving him out of their way. Aethelflaed recognized the words as a swear, something Erik muttered in traffic and on cold mornings. “Let’s go, I need help with my dress.” She pulled Aethelflaed through the crowd, yelling and pushing at the partiers to get towards the lobby.

When they were in the bathroom, door shut behind them, Aethelflaed leaned over the sink and retched. Alva wet a paper towel, folding it and passing it over so Aethelflaed could clean her mouth.

“Thank you. Again. You’re my hero tonight.”

Alva shrugged like it was nothing, leaning into the mirror and fussing with her hair.

“You must think I’m an idiot, reacting like that.” Aethelflaed felt like an idiot, both for not fighting back and for feeling so scared in the first place.

“Haesten was being a creep. When a woman freezes in your arms, she’s not exactly into it, right?”

Aethelflaed nodded, not quite believing her. “But I didn’t need to get sick over it.”

Alva stared straight at her. “Who are you trying to convince? Me or you? Because I don’t give a shit how you reacted. You need a glass of water?”

Aethelflaed shook her head.

Alva leaned against the counter, staring at Aethelflaed. “You’re the lawyer, right? I heard about you. The king’s daughter, or something, right?”

“Prime Minister.”

“Exactly. Sig doesn’t like it, you being here. He’s been pretty whiny about it.” Alva pulled out her lipstick and touched it up, offering the tube to Aethelflaed. Aethelflaed shook her head, wiping the rest of the lipstick from her own mouth. “I’d be careful, if I were you. Sig is…well, he’s tricky.”

“Erik is assigned to me. I don’t think he’d let anything happen to me.”

Alva looked skeptical. “They are brothers, though. And close. Just be careful, ok?”

“Of course.”

Alva smiled sympathetically, like she didn’t think Aethelflaed could look out for herself. Maybe she was right.

When they rejoined the party, Alva went directly to Erik, grabbing his arm and explaining something to him, pointing back to the dance floor where Aethelflaed was grabbed. Erik nodded and slipped away into the crowd, his hand grazing Aethelflaed’s as he passed.

“Erik will take care of it,” Alva reassured Aethelflaed, leaning over the bar to grab a bottle. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“You are very polite. Sig, you hear this girl? So polite.”

Sig looped his arm around Alva, planting a kiss on her cheek. She rolled her eyes but leaned into him. “Don’t trust her, Alva. She’s a wolf, just like her father.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow. Aethelflaed was about to excuse herself, but Sig was kissing Alva, pressing her up against the bar. Aethelflaed turned away, happy for a way out.

She flinched at the feeling of a hand on her arm. But it was only Erik, and he drew back at her reaction, looking apologetic.

The music was loud and Aethelflaed had to move in close to hear him speak. “I sent Haesten home. He shouldn’t have touched you like that. I’m sorry. I’ll handle it tomorrow, when he’s sober.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

Aethelflaed gazed up at him. There was this softness around his eyes that made her heart ache. He didn’t make sense amidst all this.

“I want to go,” she murmured.

He took her by the hand and led her to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head canon, Sigefrid pretends to be this non-committed ladies man, but he is just head over heels in love with Alva. Alva likes him to but constantly pretends she doesn’t, which just makes him more smitten. 
> 
> And even though I say this party takes place on winter solstice (which is today, pals!), I am not going to be rigorous enough to acknowledge any yule or Christmas stuff.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of sex in this chapter, so feel free to skip it. There is no plot. Just smutty smut. Warnings for: explicit sex, oral sex, infidelity, and poking fun at Christianity.

Aethelflaed drove them back to her building, as she had stayed pretty sober. She’d never driven in snow before and she inched along cautiously while Erik urged her to go faster. But by the time they reached her floor, Erik’s teasing had ceased and he was silent. He dropped the heavy bag of papers inside her door but stayed on the mat, lingering while she shed her winter clothes.

“Erik? Aren’t you going to stay?”

He stood awkwardly, fiddling with zipper on his coat.

“Maybe you’ve had too much to drink? You can just lay down, go to sleep.”

“No, I’m fine, I just…” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “This is a bad idea, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” she laughed. “Definitely. But it’s one of those _good_ bad ideas, you know?”

“Good bad ideas. You’re gonna have to explain that.”

She stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “Like: starting a fight in church? Bad idea. Eating a whole plate of pastries? _Good_ bad idea.”

“Now that’s confusing, because I _have_ started a fight in a church and it went very well.”

Aethelflaed shook her head at him. She reached up and pushed off his coat, letting it fall to the floor. 

“So: robbing a truck? Bad idea. Letting you undress me? Good bad idea.”

Aethelflaed grinned. “You’re getting it.” She placed her hands square on his chest, bracing herself as she leaned up to kiss him. As she rocked back, she could feel his heart beating, a steady rhythm under her palm. “But it’s still a bad idea. If you want to leave, I understand.”

Erik looked at her for a long time, his expression unreadable. Finally, he took her wrists and looped her arms around his neck. He gripped her waist and kissed her hard.

They stumbled to the bedroom, unable to release each other even for a moment. It was frantic, fast, this thing between them, and they were already against the bed. Aethelflaed gasped, pulling away from him.

“Slower,” she whispered, but then went in hungry again, taking his mouth.

Erik laughed against her lips, then dragged his mouth to her ear. “Slower,” he echoed.

They clung to each other for another moment, catching their breath, and then he stood up. He pushed the hair out of his face, but it fell right back down again, covering his eye. Aethelflaed giggled.

“Are you laughing at me?” he said in mock anger.

She gazed up at him. “You are just unreasonably handsome.”

Erik laughed softly and looked down, rubbing his neck self-consciously.

“You don’t believe me?” she asked, shifting to the edge of the bed. “It’s ok, I’m a lawyer. I can prove it.”

Erik rolled his eyes at her bit, but let her take hold of his left hand.

“First piece of evidence I’d like to submit to the court: this hand. Strong, but gentle when need be. Five fingers–very useful. Somehow always warm, even though you live inside a glacier.” Erik laughed again. She loved to make him laugh. “And there are two of them,” she added, reaching for his right hand, too. “Excellent value.”

Aethelflaed pulled herself up by his hands. “Second piece of evidence: this body. Tall, but not too tall,” she leaned up and kissed him, demonstrating the adequacy of his height. “See? No neck strain. I know I’m repeating myself but once again: strong! Perfect for all sorts of tasks: carrying groceries, carrying bags of legal documents, carrying puppies and small children to safety–”

“So I’m good for carrying things.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Erik, you’re _excellent_ for carrying things. And that’s not all–this body looks good in all manner of clothing: t-shirts, flannel shirts, thick hand knit sweaters to be worn to formal events–”

“You leave my sweater out of this,” he said, defensively.

“I will not leave your sweater out of this. I am crazy about your sweater. I will never even look at another sweater, it’s ruined me so. That being said,” she began to tug at the wool, carefully, “I think we need to set the sweater aside now, just for legal purposes.”

Erik sighed and removed his sweater, tossing it on the floor. “You are ridiculous.”

“I am thorough.”

“Then by all means,” he gestured to the rest of his body, “keep going.”

Aethelflaed examined him, running her hands up his arms and resting them on his shoulders, turning him all the way around. “This body is perfect. Wait–” she pulled off his t-shirt and surveyed his bare chest, biting her lip, “yup, perfect.”

Erik sighed again, but his impatience sounded performative and there was colour high in his cheeks.

“And last piece of evidence, ladies and gentlemen of the court,” Aethelflaed spoke softer, shedding the playful tone a little, “this face.” She cupped her hand against his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the stubble rising on his chin. “These eyes,” she whispered, pushing the hair out of his face and holding his gaze. His expression was serious, almost somber. “When you smile, your eyes show it most of all, did you know that? They give you away. I can always tell if you mean it. It makes me feel safe, to see these eyes and know how honest you are.”

Erik smiled, just for her. He ducked his head and kissed her. He pulled her tight against his body and she could feel him, hard against her. Aethelflaed felt all the confidence–the boldness that she had used to get Erik half-naked in her bedroom–drain away. She had propelled herself into deep water, past the reassurance of the sand beneath her feet, and she was frightened and excited. He turned her slowly until her back was to him.

“Can I take this off?” Erik whispered, running his fingers under a strap of her dress, carefully drawing it down her shoulder.

“Yes.”

He unzipped it slowly, like it was a ritual he couldn’t rush. He drew down the other strap and let the dress fall to her feet.

“And these?” he whispered again, tracing the hemof her underwear so that she shuddered, just a little.

“Yes.”

He dragged them down, his fingers skimming her legs.

“I want to look at you.” He wasn’t even touching her now and she realized that she could still turn back. She could still swim to shore. The choice was entirely hers, to retreat into safety or to go deeper.She turned around.

His smile when he took in her body was faint compared to his grin when he’d first seen her in the dress, but Aethelflaed did not doubt his pleasure. He was transfixed by her and his eyes seemed to follow her slightest movement, even the subtle motion of her breath. She reached out tentatively and grasped his hips, tugging him closer to her, until she could nuzzle into his neck and kiss the soft skin there. She fumbled to undo his pants and she was relieved when he came to her aid.

“My fingers are shaking,” Aethelflaed murmured, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “I think you need to take it from here. Will you do that for me?” She looked up at him so earnestly that he could have laughed, just at the sweetness of her.

“Yes, love, I will.”

Erik woke with a start, as always. He carried this readiness in his chest, something he’d never shaken after urgent wake ups in prison and the militia. He sat up, trying to get his bearings, but then felt the dry dizziness of a weak hangover. His hangovers worsened when he’d reached his thirties, as if they could sense the milestone. There was a glass of water on the table next to him and he surveyed the room while gulping it down: messy piles of clothes, including a blazer hanging precariously off the back of a chair and a glittering black dress pooled by the foot of the bed. _Aethelflaed_. He was in Aethelflaed’s room. The night before came rushing back to him and he lay back, grinning. A good bad idea.

He was half dozing, half replaying the night in his head when Aethelflaed entered the room, a mug in each hand.

“You don’t open your eyes unless you smell coffee, right?” she teased, setting the mugs down on the side table.

“You are a goddess,” Erik exclaimed.

She sat down on the bed next to him. “I think you’ll need to sit up to drink it. Or should I just pour it directly on you?”

Erik opened his mouth. “I’m ready,” he said–or tried to, with his mouth still wide open. Aethelflaed burst out laughing as he pulled her down next to him, under the blanket.

“How long before you trade me in for your coffee?” she asked, nestling deeper into the crook of his arm

“Never,” Erik murmured, “this is perfect.” When Aethelflaed didn’t answer, he realized he had spoken in Norse. Good. It was too early to be saying things like that out loud. _Get yourself together,_ he pleaded with himself.

Aethelflaed was washing dishes when Erik came into the kitchen, fresh from the shower. She was dressed only in an oversized t-shirt, her hair still messy from bed. Erik leaned against the island, watching her.

“What?” she asked, a little flustered under his gaze.

“Just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

She blushed and turned back to the sink. Erik walked around the island. He leaned down and kissed her neck and she tilted her head, letting him.

“I liked you in that dress last night,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I liked how the neckline plunged down to here,” he dragged the collar of her shirt down till he reached the valley between her breasts.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

He shushed her gently. “I liked how the fabric hugged your curves,” he ran his hands down her ass and back up her hips. “I liked how the skirt only reached to here,” he touched her lower thighs with his fingertips. “And I like you in this t-shirt, so soft and relaxed.” He pressed into her back and she could feel the whole length of him, hard against her. She pushed back, wanting to get closer. His hand skimmed back up her body, grazing her between the legs. She gasped, craving more.

“Please,” her voice was husky.

“Please what,” he whispered, skimming his hand across her again. “Tell me what you want.”

Aethelflaed felt herself blush again. Couldn’t he just know what she wanted? Did she have to say it? But he was still, waiting for her.

“I want to be fucked,” she pleaded.

He nodded, and he was so close that she could feel the slight movement against her neck. “With what? With my fingers?” his hand moved up, under her long shirt, and he slid his fingers into her underwear, starting to push them down. “Or my mouth? Or my cock?”

Aethelflaed inhaled sharply. “Mouth first, then cock.” She was surprised to hear herself say the words.

Erik spun her around roughly. He knelt between her legs and pulled her underwear all the way down, tossing them aside once she stepped out of them. He looked up at her and his eyes shone. He wanted this, she realized with a thrill. He wanted to please her. And then his mouth was on her.

It was so fast and so slow, the build towards release. He gripped her ass, trying to hold her still under his tongue, but she arched her back anyways, letting the sharp edge of the counter press into her lower back. She ground her hands into the counter, but it was damp with dishwater and her right hand slipped. She shifted it to the fridge, bracing against it as Erik found deeper and deeper parts of her.

“I’m going to come,” she gasped.

“Good,” he said, only drawing back for a second.

She fell beautifully apart in his grasp.

Aethelflaed was catching her breath when Erik stood up. He filled a glass with water and drank it down, wiping his mouth with a satisfied grin. Aethelflaed felt weightless, still leaning against the counter for support.

“We’re not done, are we?” she asked.

Erik smirked at the candid expression of her desire. “Not done.” He scooped her up and draped her over his shoulder, carrying her into the living room. She shrieked as he slid her back down to the ground next to the couch.

“You still want my cock?”

“Yes,” she said and laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. But Erik was serious.

“Bend over the couch.”

She obeyed. She waited while he went to retrieve a condom, while he put it on. He pushed her shirt up again and then he entered her, fast and hard. He thrust and she moaned, muffling the sound in the couch cushion.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

She turned her head, resting her cheek on the rough fabric. “Don’t stop.”

Just as they finished, there was a pounding on the door. Aethelflaed jumped a little at the noise. She suddenly felt vulnerable and she pulled down the hem of her shirt.

Erik looked puzzled, but he was dressing quickly.

Another knock and a voice. “Miss Engels?”

Erik recognized the voice and huffed in frustration. “I’ll get it.”

Aethelflaed nodded and tiptoed to the bedroom, as if she might get caught.

Erik opened the door. Dagfinn looked surprised to see him.

“Everything alright, Dagfinn?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, I think so. I heard yelling. I was concerned.”

Erik stared at him for a moment, then Dagfinn’s eyes widened. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t realize you were here. I’ll just let you get back to– I’ll just leave you be.”

“Thank you, Dagfinn. And good work, checking up on her.”

Dagfinn nodded, looking deeply embarrassed. Erik patted him on the shoulder reassuringly before shutting the door.

“Anything wrong?” Aethelflaed asked, re-emerging fully dressed, to Erik’s disappointment.

“Yes. My guard just heard some noises. Seemed to think you were in some distress.”

A horrified look crossed Aethelflaed’s face. “Was I loud? Was I _that_ loud?”

“Well, you were in good hands.”

Erik looked so smug that she couldn’t help but swat him.

Erik appeared at Aethelflaed’s door bright and early on Sunday morning. He was beaming but she was grumpy, running on too little sleep.

“I’m here for lonely church,” he explained. She stared at him blankly. “Lonely church?” he said again, a little uncertainly. She rubbed her eyes in confusion. He tried again: “When the priest comes to you so you don’t have to leave your house?”

“Private worship,” she corrected, rolling her eyes at his mistake.

“Ah, I prefer my term.” He was already brewing coffee, of course, and unpacking a bag of baked goods on the counter. He looked at Aethelflaed, a little concerned. “You need to sleep? Or work? I can go.”

She shook her head, shaking off the groggy cloud that she’d carried with her from bed. “No, I need you.” She tugged him by the hand, leading him into the living room and setting him down on the armchair. She was about to kiss him, but stopped, noticing the foul taste in her mouth. “Don’t move, ok?” She waited for his nod before darting to the bathroom.

Aethelflaed was back in a few minutes, teeth brushed, face washed, hair…managed. Sort of. Erik was right where she’d left him and she grinned triumphantly at his obedience. She climbed into the chair, her back against one arm and her legs hung over the other, and settled into his lap. “Now kiss me.”

“Yes, sir,” he murmured.

They had been kissing for…a long time…when they were rudely interrupted by the ring of the phone. Aethelflaed groaned and leaned over, picking it up from the side table. Erik tugged her back down into his lap, dropping a series of kisses along her neck and collar bone while she answered the phone.

“Hello? Good morning, mother.” Aethelflaed placed her hand on Erik’s chest gently pushing him back. He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, instantly bored.

Aethelflaed listened to the steady stream of news and criticism Aelswith was doling out. Occasionally, she murmured her assent, “Mmhmm.” After a good five minutes of Aelswith’s monologue, Aethelflaed interrupted. “Mother, I have to go now. The priest is here, to lead me in private worship.” She saw Erik mouth _lonely church_ and she pressed her finger to his lips, shushing him. “Well they think it would be safer for me to do it from home. But that’s an excellent point, I’ll see if I can arrange a visit to one of the churches…Or all of them, yes. Ok, mother, I can’t keep the priest waiting. I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

Aethelflaed hung up and tossed the phone across the room, onto the couch. She settled back down into the chair, smiling at Erik.

“You’re a distressingly good liar, you know that?”

“It’s pronounced _lawyer_ ,” she replied, drily.

“Very clever.” He traced his finger along the chain around her neck, following its path to the silver cross tucked under her shirt. “So that makes me your priest, then?”

“That’s very blasphemous, Erik.”

“I think I’d be an excellent priest. I can teach you all about sins,” he tucked his hand up her shirt, sliding it up. “and fleshly desires.” His hand reached her breast and cupped it, his thumb scraping her nipple just enough to make her shudder. “We could do our own private worship.”

Aethelflaed pressed against his hand, ready for more. “Please let the record show that I am horrified by your total disrespect for my religion,” she insisted, while cupping her hands behind his neck and pulling him closer to her.

Erik reached down between her legs, gently probing the damp fabric there. “Yes, you feel…horrified. That’s what this is, right? Anger? Indignation?” She squirmed against him, half-mortified and half-thrilled at his acknowledgement of her wetness. His mouth chased hers, catching her in a long, deep kiss. “What are you going to do about it?” he murmured, his lips grazing her throat as he spoke. Her breath caught in her throat and she clung to him.

“I think I’ll make you get down on your knees and pray, heathen.”

Erik’s face was hungry as he fell to his knees before her. She arched to help him pull off her leggings, leaving her skin bare against the rough cushion. He slid her to edge of the chair, hooked her legs over his shoulders, and leaned in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how Canadian shows are so often set in, like, summer? And you lose the good third of the year that's just cold and ice? I love how Letterkenny actually has winter season when they talk about each other’s winter clothes (“are you fucking serious with that turtleneck”). So I’m bringing a little bit of cozy and snow to this story.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: misogyny, excessive drinking, fighting, threats.

One evening, Erik drove Aethelflaed out of town. As the city lights receded behind them, the stars multiplied, filling the sky. Erik stopped in a clearing. They leaned the car seats back and stared up at the night sky, rimmed with the dark tops of spruce and pine. Erik had told her that they might see the Northern Lights, the streaks of shimmering colour shed from the armour of the Valkyries. But it was unpredictable, and though they waited an hour, wrapped in blankets and sharing a thermos of coffee laced with whiskey, the lights never appeared.

Soon enough, they found other ways to entertain themselves, fumbling for each other in the awkward space of the car. Once Aethelflaed had banged her head on the ceiling and Erik had set off the car horn with his foot (twice) they gave up, collapsing back into their respective seats.

“It’s better this way,” Erik assured Aethelflaed, “I don’t have any condoms.”

There was a heavy pause. Erik looked at Aethelflaed, knowing she was thinking something.

“You had them that first night, at the party,” she said, her voice a little curious.

Erik grinned. “Well, yes. I had my…intentions. I thought I should be ready.”

More silence. “And we can’t have sex without them because I don’t want to get pregnant.” Aethelflaed knew she probably sounded naive and a little foolish, but she trusted Erik not to laugh.

“Yes,” Erik agreed. “And I haven’t been tested recently. I should fix that.”

“What do you mean tested?”

“For…STIs?”

Silence.

“Sexually transmitted infections?”

“Why would you have those!?”

This time, Erik was silent.

“Oh. From sex,” Aethelflaed said softly. “Yes, I see.”

“I’m guessing the Christian life hasn’t exactly prepared you for…this.”

“No,” Aethelflaed smiled. “Sexual education was not a pillar of Aelswith’s parenting. Did your parents teach you?”

Erik furrowed his brow. “Sort of. One day, my mum found Sig’s girlfriend crying in the bathroom over a missed period. Then she sent us both out to buy condoms and pregnancy tests. And then she yelled at us for a while about how we were responsible for keeping ourselves and our partners safe.”

“Was the girl alright?”

“She was fine. Though she never came back. Something about her boyfriend’s little brother handing her a pregnancy test seemed to put her off.”

Aethelflaed laughed. She poured them both more coffee and savoured the warmth of the cup in her hand.

“Aethelflaed,” Erik’s voice sounded cautious and it immediately put her on edge, “was that your first time with me?”

Aethelflaed sipped her coffee. “Maybe.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?! I would have been…nicer. Gentler.”

“Erik, you’re about as rough as a pillow.”

He frowned at that. “You still could have told me.”

“I know, but I wanted it to be about us, not about that. Do you understand?”

He considered her question for a moment. “No.”

She sighed and then turned towards him. “What were you told about your virginity?”

“That I was best rid of it.”

“Hmm. Would you like to hear what I was told about my virginity?” Silence. “Well, you’re going to.” She sat up straight and cleared her throat. “My dear,” she said in a severe tone.

“Aethelflaed,” Erik answered, dutifully.

“No, no. I’m not Aethelflaed, I’m Aelswith.”

“Am I Aethelflaed?” he asked, a little confused.

“No, you’re still Erik.”

“So your mother is talking to me about my virginity? That just feels off limits.”

“Ok, fine, you’re me, and I’m my mother.” She cleared her throat again. “My dear–right now, you are pure. You carry this purity with you in everything you do. This purity is God working through you, and it is your duty to your God and to your future husband to preserve this purity.”

Erik groaned.

“Your chastity is a gift,” Aethelflaed continued, “a gift that you give your husband. It is evidence of your devotion and of your faith. On the eve of your wedding, you will give yourself wholly to him, as you have never given yourself to any other man. By preserving your chastity until marriage, you show your God that lovemaking is a holy act, an act of procreation and of commitment–”

“Ok, ok, that’s enough.”

“I have been hearing these things from her and from the priests and from teachers my entire life. It was a lot of….ah…pressure. When I was with you, I didn’t want to think about my _purity_. I just wanted to be with you.”

“I guess I’m glad of that. And you don’t regret it? Sullying yourself with me?”

There was a teasing lilt to his words and she grinned.

“No, I do not.”

They were relaxing on the couch late on a Friday night. Without Erik there to distract her, Aethelflaed knew she would have worked straight through the weekend and stumbled into court on Monday morning no more prepared. She was impressed by how much the Northmen rested and partied, and how little they worked. But everything seemed to get accomplished just the same. Maybe there wasn’t anything _better_ about the Saxon way of life–working and praying and praying over the work you feel you shirked.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Aethelflaed asked. She was leaning against Erik’s chest, his arms loose around her. He had been quiet for a while but she knew he wasn’t asleep because she could feel the steady motion of his breath against her back and it had not slowed.

“There’s nothing to tell.” His accent was a bit thicker tonight as he’d spent the whole day in meetings, talking with other Northmen. It would loosen a little after a few hours with her.

“You don’t like to talk about yourself.”

“Nobody does.”

“That’s not true,” Aethelflaed moved to sit up and Erik released her reluctantly. “Aethelred _loves_ talking about himself. So does Sig. And Uhtred. And my father, for that matter, though he spins it as talking about his country.”

“If I tell you about myself, will you lie back down?”

Aethelflaed grinned triumphantly. “Yes.”

“Good,” Erik said, drawing her back against his chest. “What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about your family.”

“You know my family. Sig, me, that’s it.”

“What about your parents?” She waited, but he didn’t speak. “If it’s too personal–”

“No, no. I’ll tell you,” he let out a deep breath and she felt it against her hair. She had never been so intimate with anyone, but she still felt intrusive, asking him for more.

“Sig’s dad died before I was born,” he began. “Otherwise he would have been my dad too, I guess.”

“Is that how that works?”

“Our mother loved him. I think he might even have been worthy of her. But he died young, doing business with dangerous men. Then there was my dad. She must have been mighty desperate when she brought _him_ home. But he didn’t hang around long. Didn’t even wait to meet me.”

“His loss.”

“We did meet eventually. He came back when I was about ten and stuck around for a couple years, trying to woo his way into our family. My mum wouldn’t have him, though. I remember the last time I saw him. He’d come to the door drunk, late at night. Sig was pissed off and I was holding him back, reminding him that mum could handle it on her own. I remember she looked him up and down, standing there in our doorway, and told him he was nothing. That the only worthwhile thing about him was me, and she already had me, so he could fuck right off.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “She was vicious. He never came back.”

“Were they married?”

“No, she didn’t marry either of them. Sig and I are bastards, through and through.”

“Was that difficult?”

“No. It kept her free. If she’d married Sig’s dad, those men might have come after her, saddled her with his debts. And if she’d married my dad, she wouldn’t have been able to shake him off so easily. She guarded her independence.”

“Tell me about her. Your mother.” Aethelflaed said the words cautiously, still nervous that she would push him too far.

“My mother was the toughest person I’ve ever known. She could make Sig crumble with just a look, even when he was a six foot three teenager and the terror of the neighbourhood. She was beautiful and men loved her, but she wouldn’t let anyone get close to her. She worked hard at a hospital, and she never made enough money to slow down. Then she got sick and died in that same hospital, being cared for by all her old coworkers. She wanted us to be good men and we broke her fucking heart.”

Aethelflaed laced her fingers through his. “You’re a good man, Erik.”

“Not good enough.”

“Then you keep trying. That’s all you can do.”

He kissed the back of her neck, so softly she almost couldn’t feel it.

“And what about you? What was is like to grow up the daughter of a rich and powerful man?”

“Easy. I was spoiled and happy. Even when my father was busy, he would set aside time to spend with me. He taught me chess, talked to me about politics, and pushed me to study hard. He showed me off at all his meetings and events.”

“He must be proud of you.”

“He _was_ proud of me. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Why do you say that?”

Aethelflaed sighed. It was a jealous, ugly feeling she hadn’t yet put into words. “These last few years, he’s been so focused on Edward. And when he talks to me, it’s usually about my future, but not like before: he is focused on my marriage and the family I’ll have. It’s not that I’m envious of Edward, exactly. I know it sounds like that. It’s just that…my father raised me my whole life to be a leader. And then suddenly one day, he realized I was just a woman, and he moved right along to the next child. The boy.” She clung to Erik’s hand. “Do you think I sound childish?”

“No,” Erik replied. “I think that Saxon men are hard on their women.”

“And Northmen are softer?”

He chuckled. “Fair point. Just different kinds of control, I guess.”

“Your mother was smart, I think, to choose herself over any men. To keep them all out. Perhaps I should follow in her footsteps.”

“You should. But maybe, Aethelflaed, once in a while, you can let me in? Not for good. Just for a night.”

"I’d like that.”

Aethelflaed must have dozed off, because she woke up to a pounding at the door. They both sat up, untangling their limbs. The pounding went on.

Erik stood up but Aethelflaed placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll get it. It’s my door, right?” He looked wary as she crossed the apartment.

It was Sig, and he was so tall and so…present that Aethelflaed actually wanted to hide.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, Engels, I need you to give me back my brother. He’s here, isn’t he?” He pushed past her and into the living room. “Erik! There you are.”

“Is something wrong, Sig?”

Sig sunk into the armchair. “No, I just wanted to see you. You’ve been gone too much. Something keeping you busy, eh?” He eyed Aethelflaed as she sat back down on the couch.

“Can I get you something, Sigefrid?” Aethelflaed could hear her mother in her voice, always the gracious hostess.

Sig shook his head. He pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and took a swig before throwing it to Erik. Erik held it but didn’t drink. “Engels, what have you done to poor Erik? He used to be my toughest, most reliable man, and now he is always busy feeding you or watching you or riding you. I am tired of it.”

Aethelflaed looked at Erik uneasily.

“She doesn’t understand you, Sig.”

“That’s right. We have to learn their filthy English tongue and they cannot be bothered to learn Norse. It’s probably for the best. It makes it easier to work against them, when they don’t know what we’re saying.” Sig raised his hand and Erik tossed him the flask. He took another long swig. “Erik, tell me: is it satisfying to fuck the precious daughter of the man who put you in prison?”

Erik squeezed his eyes shut and dragged his hand through his hair. Sig laughed.

“A tip, Miss Engels,” he said, switching to English, “when he makes that face, it means he’s about to hit someone. Best to step out of the way.”

“Sig.” Erik’s voice was tight when he spoke his brother’s name.

“She doesn’t look like much, brother,” Sig was using Norse again, giving Aethelflaed an appraising look. She did her best not to squirm under his stare. “Too bony, I think. Too thin. But maybe there is more to her than meets the eye. How about you step out for an hour, give us a chance to get better acquainted.”

“Sig.” This time it sounded like a warning and Aethelflaed reached out, instinctively placing a soothing hand on Erik’s arm. Erik shook her off, but not before Sig caught the intimate gesture.

“Calm down, Erik,” Sig said, enjoying the the game of goading his brother, “you’re scaring the poor girl. You know,” he leaned forward in his seat, assuming a position that was casually menacing, “I think we should trade Uhtred for her. Send that traitorous Saxon back to Winchester and keep Alfred’s daughter for ourselves. I think she’d look good in a cell. We could make a pretty penny off her, too, charge all the men to see and touch the prized daughter of Wessex.”

Erik was seething, his fingers curling into a fist on his leg. Aethelflaed wondered if he would fight his brother. She cleared her throat and stood up.

“Sigefrid, I may not understand what you’re saying but the tone is clear enough. I’m going to have to ask you to leave my apartment.”

“ _Your_ apartment?” Sig scoffed. “You are living here at _my will_. You have no right to order me out of my own damn property.”

“I am living here because my firm is paying you rent, and quite a high rent. Yes, Sig, I can read a fucking contract. Right now, I have more of a legal right to this place than you do.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t concern myself with what’s legal.”

Sig gave Aethelflaed a look that made her stomach hurt, but she stood her ground.

“Do you really think you can scare me?”

“I think I already have.”

“Enough!” Erik shouted loud enough to make them both start. Aethelflaed stepped back, relieved at his intervention. But he surprised her by turning on her. “Aethelflaed, I think you should leave.”

“This is _my_ –”

“I don’t fucking care. Go to the gym, go have a shower, go to sleep, I don’t care, just fucking leave.” His voice had a sharpness she’d never heard before and she felt it like a knife to her throat. She swallowed hard, trying not to cry. Because yes–Aethelred could talk down to her, Sigefrid could threaten her, and she would be just fine, but when Erik turned to her with anything but softness she would crack right open.

Erik took a long drink from Sig’s flask. He paced a little then looked up at Aethelflaed, feigning confusion that she was still there. “Did I not make myself clear? We are done here.” He waved a hand, literally dismissing her. She didn’t wait for another humiliating cue.

When she made it to her bedroom, she slammed the door behind her. It was an appropriately immature gesture, because sitting down on her bed it was very clear to Aethelflaed that she was nothing more than a stupid lovesick girl.

Erik stumbled his way out of the bar in search of fresh air.

After they left Aethelflaed’s apartment, Sig’s mood had improved. He was never happier than when he had a drink in his hand, a beautiful woman on his arm, and his brother within shouting distance. The only downside to his happiness was that he made it his mission to get Erik laid, dragging woman after woman to whichever wall or pool table Erik was leaning against and making the case for why _this_ was the woman for Erik, at least for one night. Erik had managed to shake them off through multiple games of pool, winning a tidy pile of money. And then he’d immediately made that money disappear, buying too many drinks to distract Sig from yet more wingman attempts. Because though the women Sig managed to dig up were beautiful and friendly (and occasionally deeply bored with the company of drunk men), they were not Aethelflaed. And Erik, stupid Erik, only wanted Aethelflaed. So, after four hours, several rounds of drinks, and spending all his pool winnings, Erik was standing on the sidewalk, drunk and coatless in the freezing December night.

He made his way over to the corner where Sig was smoking. Fuck fresh air. He grabbed the cigarette from his brother’s hand and was halfway through it before he took note of the man talking with Sig. He looked the man up and down, willing the world to stop spinning long enough for him to connect the feeling of dread in the back of his throat with the man standing in front of him. It was Otti Svenson. Erik had never met him, but he recognized him from many newspaper photographs, usually next to articles spewing hate and greed. He had even seen Otti speak once or twice, before the coup, at tense rallies that often turned violent when either the militia or Otti’s party pushed a little too hard. Otti was a right-wing politician, or a fucking fascist as they called them before the coup, back when he and Sig would have surrendered to the Saxons rather than give an inch to Otti and his vile followers. But now he was standing on a street corner sharing his lighter with Sig, and they appeared to be talking business.

Erik took a long exhale, preparing himself to join the conversation. The rest was a blur. He woke up hours later in his own bed, with a bruised face and bleeding knuckles.

The sound of his own knock made Erik’s head ache. He rested his forehead on the door, inevitably resulting in a stumble when Aethelflaed opened it. He caught his balance and smiled at her.

“Can I help you?” she asked, not stepping aside to let him in. His smiled faltered.

“You weren’t answering your phone. I just wanted to see if you’re ok. Are you ok?”

Aethelflaed had been ignoring her phone. Uhtred had lost his phone privileges and she didn’t feel like speaking to anyone else, Erik included.

“I was working.”

“I thought we could go get breakfast,” Erik said, a hopeful look on his face.

“It’s 3 pm,” Aethelflaed responded flatly.

“Right. Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not. I’ve just been here, staying in my room, like a good little girl.” Aethelflaed turned and went to the kitchen. Erik caught the door and slipped through.

“You’re saying those words like they mean something, but I don’t really understand it, so maybe you can explain…” She was glaring at him. “Last night. I did something last night, didn’t I? Did I call you? I didn’t show up here, I would remember that.”

“So you don’t remember when Sig threatened me and instead of having my back you told me to fuck off and dismissed me with a–” she waved her hand, imitating his belittling gesture from the night before.

Erik leaned heavily against the counter. Yes, he remembered that. “I thought you knew what I was doing. You _did_ know what I was doing?”

“Humiliating me?”

“Protecting you!”

She stared at him, equal parts angry and confused.

“Sig was ready to fight. And you–stupidly brave thing that you are–you were baiting him. I de-escalated the situation in the most efficient way. I got you away from him and then I got him out of the apartment. I was just handling him! I would never speak to you like that.”

“You _did_ speak to me like that!”

“But it was obviously an act! Wasn’t it obvious?”

She crossed her arms, a wordless confirmation that it was not obvious.

“I thought you knew me better than that, Aethelflaed. I thought you would see what I was trying to do.”

“I have known you for one month and Sig’s known you your entire life, but _I’m_ supposed to see through your act?”

“Well, yeah. Because…you know me.”

Something about Erik’s eyes when he said the words made Aethelflaed feel a stab of painful pride. He truly thought she could see him clearer than anyone else could, clearer even than his own brother. And she thought the same thing, didn’t she? As though with Erik, she was real, every part of her pulled up to the surface for him to see and touch and want.

“I didn’t understand,” she said, quietly. “I just thought…you were done with me or something.”

“No,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “No, no, no. Just trying to keep you safe in my own inept way.”

“Thank you, I guess?” she mumbled into his shoulder. They embraced for a while. Then: “You smell really bad.”

Erik laughed and stepped back, releasing her. “Think I drank half the bar all on my own. I’m surprised I’m even standing. Do you want to be alone today?”

She shook her head. “I think you should have a shower and I’ll order pizza. Actually, you order pizza first. I can’t understand them on the phone and I get all flustered.”

“I can make the call.”

“And I’m giving you one kiss, but then you’re brushing your teeth. Twice.” Aethelflaed kiss him softly on the lips then noticed the bruise high on his cheekbone. “What happened?”

“Got in a fight over something stupid.”

“Over what?”

Erik furrowed his brow. “The relationship between homophobia and increased state violence?”

Aethelflaed shook her head, in awe at this strange, sweet man who kept coming back to her, offering her more of himself. “Something stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about what the cultural differences would be between more modern Viking and Saxon societies, and settled on Aethelflaed knowing very little about safe sex and Erik being very comfortable discussing it. 
> 
> I had written up a whole section where Erik argues with the fascist dude, but then I didn't want to include the homophobia in any detailed way, so I made him blackout a little bit instead. You can just imagine how I pulled what I know about 1930s oppressive Canadian laws and 1960s homophobic police violence in Toronto into a very clumsy political representation of Beomfleet, and how Erik feels about that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence and incarceration.

Aethelflaed had been pouring over her papers for hours and her head was reeling. She shut her laptop and dialled her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, father. I knew you’d still be in your office.”

“Yes, well, I was just about to go to an evening service.”

“I don’t want to keep you.”

“No, Aethelflaed. I’d rather listen to you than Father Beocca. At least tonight.”

She smiled. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Tell me how you have been.”

“I have been…busy. I’m still at the courthouse. I seem to be stuck.”

“Do you want to talk it through?”

“No, I’m tired of talking about the case. I think I need a break. How are you? How is everyone?”

“Your mother is worried about you–”

“She doesn’t need to be.”

Alfred chuckled. “That’s not going to stop her. Edward is…increasingly surly.”

“He _is_ a teenager.”

“I don’t remember you ever being _that_ much of a teenager, but I suppose you’re right.”

“And how are you, father? Are you taking care of yourself?”

She heard him let out a long sigh. She could picture him, hunched in his desk chair, looking thin and ragged like he always did these days.

“I am fine. I am taking care of my country. I will be better when things are more settled.”

“What things?”

“The budget. The trial. The wedding.”

Aethelflaed stiffened. She didn’t want to talk about the wedding, not when she had spent all night with Erik in her bed, yet again. If anyone would know that she was slipping, it would be her father. He would be able to hear it, even through the phone line. He would know she was losing focus and letting herself get swept away by something dangerous.

“Well you don’t need to worry about the trial. I’ve got it handled.”

“I have no doubt that you do,” Alfred replied.

There was a long pause. Aethelflaed toyed with the phone cord, weaving it around her fingers. She couldn’t hear any movement on the other end of the line, not even the shuffle of papers.

“What do you want to talk about, Aethelflaed?” Alfred’s tone was expectant, like he knew there was a topic that she was nervous to broach. He was right.

“Uhtred was at Fangi Penitentiary when I arrived. He’s been transferred now, into the city, but I went there to see him before the trial started. Do you know it?” No answer. “It used to be Watling Prison.”

“Yes, I know it.” Aethelflaed thought she heard a touch of caution in Alfred’s voice.

“Have you ever been there?”

“No, I have not.”

“It’s pretty rough. They’ve done some work on it since the coup, made some improvements, but… It’s an ugly place, father.”

“Prisons aren’t particularly nice in general.”

“Yes, but I’ve been to the ones in Wessex. They aren’t like this. I heard that when it was opened it didn’t even have heat for the first two winters. Can you imagine that? Just concrete and metal everywhere and no heat. It’s still freezing there, even with the radiators. And it was staffed by Saxons, wasn’t it? I heard they would beat the prisoners for speaking in Norse, even amongst themselves.”

“Where did you hear all this?”

“I spoke to someone who served time there. And I read up on it. Uhtred told me they still have solitary confinement there. That they’ve always had it, even when it was Watling. Why is that?”

Alfred took his time before answering. “It’s one form of discipline, Aethelflaed. It’s not particularly unusual.”

“But we don’t have it in Wessex, right? Not for decades. And it may be typical, but it’s certainly not humane.” Aethelflaed yanked the phone cord off her fingers and sat up in her chair. “I know you set it up, father. Watling. I just can’t make sense of why you would make that place.”

“I am only one man, Aethelflaed. I didn’t open Watling all on my own.”

Aethelflaed felt a burst to frustration. “It was under your supervision. You had the authority to build that place and decide what resources it would receive, how it would be run. You were the Minister of Justice. You weren’t just some man.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?”

“I think it was wrong. What you built, it was wrong. And you knew better because you did better for your own people.”

“We carry different values then the Northmen. Saxons don’t require the same forms of discipline–”

“That’s bullshit!” Aethelflaed clapped her hand over her mouth. She had never sworn at her father. It wasn’t done in her family. It wasn’t respectful.

On the other end of the line, he was quiet. Then he cleared his throat. Aethelflaed recognized that sound. It was the same sound she made when she was on the defence. She had never recognized it as a trait of her father’s. She had never thought of him as someone who needed to defend himself.

“I’m not sure this case is good for you. You’re spending so much time away from your community, surrounded by people who don’t shared your beliefs or your culture. I thought you were strong enough to handle it, but perhaps I was wrong.”

That stung: the implication that she was weak because she was holding him to account. That _real_ strength was following him obediently, as she always had.

“I just wanted to understand your work, why your notions of justice and discipline seem to have changed so much.”

Alfred sighed again. “We can talk more about it when you return home. I should get to church. Goodnight, Aethelflaed.”

Aethelflaed laid the phone down carefully in it’s cradle. She shuffled through her papers, then decided to leave them for the morning. She switched from the low heels she wore in court to her warm boots, lacing them up slowly. There was something digging at her, like a sliver in her skin, but she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t until she had locked up her office and walked down to the lobby, where Erik was waiting for her with a crooked smile, that she recognized it. _When you return home_ , Alfred had said, with certainty. But that didn’t seem so certain to Aethelflaed anymore.

“I have a question.”

Something about Erik’s tone set Aethelflaed on edge. They were lying in her bed, safe in the darkness and the warmth of each other’s bodies.

“It’s about Aethelred,” he warned.

Aethelflaed sat up, bundling her body against the wall. She couldn’t touch Erik while talking about _him_. There needed to be some kind of separation, between the thoughts of Aethelred and her intimacy with Erik. She couldn’t mix them up, not yet.

“Ok,” she replied, warily.

“Why did you agree to marry him?” She could hear the hesitation woven through Erik’s voice and she loved him for it, for caring for her in that minuscule way even while he was challenging her to justify this to him. “Why did you say yes?”

 _I had to_ , she thought, then seized the thought, shaking it for answers. She _had_ to? That was ridiculous. For her work she persuaded entire courtrooms to see things her way. And she couldn’t persuade herself to say no, or even acknowledge how little she wanted this?

“I’ve known Aethelred for a long time,” Aethelflaed said.

Erik let out a short, frustrated laugh. “And? I’ve known the grocery clerk a long time, doesn’t mean I owe him any part of myself.”

That hesitation was gone. He wasn’t holding back anymore. Aethelflaed was immediately defensive, ready to argue. Why could she access that with Erik, but not with Aethelred?

“Can you not be an asshole right now, Erik? This is hard.”

He lay back, taking a deep breath, finding his way from anger back to compassion. “Ok. I only wonder why it’s hard to explain why you’re marrying someone. It should be obvious, right? It should be because you want to.”

“My life isn’t about _want_ , Erik. There is a lot depending on me and on this marriage. It’s going to join us, his family and mine. It’s the start of this big relationship between Winchester and northern Wessex, between my father’s party and Mercer Holdings.”

“So it’s a business transaction.”

Aethelflaed chafed at the aptness of his description. “It’s about the future.”

Erik nodded, folding his arms behind his neck and resting his head on his hands. His arm grazed her leg and she shifted away, just enough to break the contact. “You don’t believe that, though. Not really. They tried to convince you–your family, Aethelred–that you’re the key to something. That if you falter, it will all shatter.” At his words, Aethelflaed pictured a sheet of ice, pictured herself taking steps–tentative at first, then more firm–until there was enough pressure to crack the ice. It made her feel powerful. “But they can build that future without you, Aethelflaed,” Erik continued, “Alfred and Aethelred can make their own deal. They can form a business partnership and bring the families together. They don’t need you in the middle. You’re incredible, you know that? You’re important. You’re not just some rope tying two things together. You’re not just a tool they can use and discard.”

Aethelflaed considered his words. She creased the blanket edge with her fingers, working it into tighter and tighter folds and then releasing it, watching the fabric undo her hard work.

“I don’t think you understand it,” she whispered.

Erik was silent. She could feel his eyes on her, searching, asking.

“I guess I don’t,” he replied.

Aethelflaed looked over at him. _Are we done?_

“You look cold,” Erik said, putting the conversation behind them, “come on, let’s get some sleep.”

She slid back under the covers and curled against him. But there was a tautness to their touch, like she could feel the space between their bodies. Like something had changed.

Erik was leaning back in the desk chair, balancing it on its back legs. The man across from him, some financial guy Sig had hired, cleared his throat. Erik let the chair drop to the floor with a thud. The man glared, annoyed that his ridiculously long lecture on import taxes had been interrupted. Erik raised his eyebrows apologetically.

He smiled in relief when Dagfinn opened the door, happy for the intrusion. But when he saw Dagfinn’s face, his stomach clenched. He pulled on his coat and followed Dagfinn into the hall, ignoring financial man’s protests.

“Aethelflaed?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Haesten. He called and said he’d take over my shift. Something about special instructions. But it felt off, and when I called Miss Engels apartment, there was just a hang up.”

“Fuck fuck fuck,” they were outside and Erik was in his car, barely giving Dagfinn time to hop in the passenger seat before he tore off.

During the brief drive to her building, he tried to switch on his soldier brain, find that cool, collected part of himself that could slow down the action and think strategically. But instead he felt like he was back in prison, fighting a desperate angry fear that pounded in his head.

He pressed on the elevator button over and over, as if that would bring it faster. Dagfinn looked legitimately frightened. He’d never seen Erik so panicked, and over something that had happened during Dagfinn’s shift. Erik thought with sympathy that it must have been hard for him to snitch on a colleague. He would find some way to thank the man, later.

When they emerged on Aethelflaed’s floor, Erik put up a hand, signalling for Dagfinn to stay back. He unlocked the door and shoved it open. The apartment was dark, quiet. It looked all wrong. Whenever Aethelflaed was here it was bright and cosy with lights on and the radio humming. Erik walked slowly inside. He saw a form on the floor, but it was too big to be Aethelflaed. He fumbled for the light switch. It was Haesten, spread out on the carpet. Erik could see the rise and fall of his chest–he was clearly still alive, just knocked clean out.

Erik stood still, listening for any noise, but there wasn’t any. He stepped over Haesten’s body into the bedroom. It was a mess, which might suggest a fight, except that he knew Aethelflaed’s habits. The disarray was all her. But where was she?

The bathroom door was closed. He approached it, then ran a hand down the wood, as if feeling it for some kind of evidence. He knocked as softly as he could.

“Aethelflaed? It’s me. It’s Erik. I’m coming in.”

He opened the door. He still couldn’t see her, even when he turned on the light. But then he heard a heavy breath behind the shower curtain.

“Aethelflaed, it’s just me. I’m going to open the curtain now, so I can be sure you’re ok.” He pulled the curtain aside.

She was bundled in one end of the bathtub, her arms wrapped tight around her knees. Her face was wet with tears and snot and blood. He knelt down next to the bathtub, reaching out to touch her hand where it clutched her leg.

“It’s ok. I’m here. No one else is going to hurt you.”

Aethelflaed looked at him and there was doubt in her eyes. Of course there was. He had failed her. He had one job and he’d fucking failed.

“Are you bleeding?”

“I think so,” she murmured.

“Do you want to stand up so we can check?”

She unfolded herself slowly, but then buckled when she stepped one foot onto the bathroom floor. She winced as Erik caught her, steadying her.

“My ankle, I think…”

“Ok. Do you want to sit down?” He settled her on the lidded toilet. Now he saw that her black shirt was soaked through at the collar. “Can I?” he asked, pointing towards the edge of her shirt. He waited for her tiny nod and then peeled back the wet cloth. There was a gash just below her collarbone.

“We’re going to have to clean that off. Are you ok to take off your shirt while I grab some supplies?” Aethelflaed didn’t move. “Ok, not yet. I’ll give you another minute. I’ll just go deal with Haesten.”

Dagfinn was standing in the doorway, peering into the apartment. Erik beckoned him inside and pointed to Haesten. Dagfinn cast Erik a questioning look.

“I think he attacked her and she knocked him out. Can you get Jon up here and move him? I don’t want him to wake up here.”

“Sure.”

Erik moved into the kitchen, reaching for the cupboard above the fridge and retrieving the first aid kit he’d stashed there. He opened it on the counter, rifling through the contents and grabbing what he needed. He filled a glass with water, then gulped it down and had to fill it again. By the time he had collected everything, Dagfinn and Jon were dragging Haesten out the door.

“Take him to the militia clinic and keep him there. I’ll deal with him later.” He locked the door behind them.

Erik returned to the bathroom and passed Aethelflaed the water. “Haesten’s gone and the door is locked. Just you and me, love.”

“Thank you,” she croaked, then half-smiled at the awkward sound of her own voice.

“Are you ready to take off your shirt? Just long enough for me to dress the wound.”

She nodded and pulled the shirt over her head, tugging where the blood had stuck it to her skin. She winced a little while Erik washed it and bandaged it. He wiped the blood of her torso and passed her a clean cloth for her face. Then he offered her his own sweater.

“I’ll get blood on it,” she worried.

“It’s just a sweater. It doesn’t matter.”

She pulled it on. It was big on her and the texture of the wool was both soft and scratchy against her bare skin. Warm and a little rough, just like Erik. She tucked her hands inside the long sleeves, curling them into tight fists.

“How do you feel about leaving the bathroom?”

Aethelflaed grimaced. “He’s gone?”

“He’s gone.”

She stood up tentatively and put her weight on him. As they made their way out of the bathroom, they heard a noise from outside the apartment. Yelling. Erik steadied Aethelflaed against the kitchen island.

“Stay here. I’ll handle this.”

But she followed him, catching the door before it fully shut behind him. He didn’t notice. He was already in the building hallway, striding up to Haesten, who had come to and was resisting Dagfinn and Jon. Erik pinned him against the wall with such force that Aethelflaed winced.

“Erik–” Haesten began, but Erik punched him, a tight right hook that spun Haesten’s head to the side. He made eye contact with Aethelflaed where she stood, half hidden in the doorway. She should have been frightened but instead she just felt a simmer of rage. Erik followed Haesten’s eye line and his eyes widened a bit, to see Aethelflaed watching. He grabbed Haesten’s chin and roughly turned it to face him.

“You will not look at her,” he hissed. Haesten had a smirk on his face, but it faltered when Erik grabbed his collar and slammed him harder against the wall. “You will not speak to her.” Erik’s voice was getting louder and his knuckles were white where he gripped Haesten’s shirt. “You will not touch her ever again. Do you understand me?”

Haesten didn’t answer, just reached up and wiped some blood from his face. Erik punched him hard in the gut. He doubled over in pain, sinking against the wall. Erik pulled him back up to his feet.

“Do you understand me, Haesten?” Erik was yelling now, his voice echoing through the hallway. He drew his arm back, poised to punch the man again.

“Yes, Erik.”

“Good, now get the fuck out of my sight.” Erik shoved Haesten to the side, towards Dagfinn and Jon. He stood, back straight and arms tucked behind him, the vigilant soldier, until the guards had dragged Haesten into the elevator and the doors had closed behind them. Then he leaned his forehead against the wall. He could see a dent in the plaster where he had slammed Haesten’s body. He traced it with his finger–the physical manifestation of an anger he didn’t even know he could access anymore. He thought he’d left that part of himself behind long ago, but here it was, as powerful as ever. He caught his breath and returned to the apartment where Aethelflaed waited.

They were settled in the living room when Aethelflaed spoke.

“He said you sent him.”

Erik looked up, confused. “ _I_ sent him?”

“Yes. I told him that you wouldn’t let him do this. He had this knife and…and he said he was following your orders. That you sent him. But you didn’t, right? Did you?”

“Of course not. He shouldn’t have been here. He’s not even on my service anymore.” Aethelflaed still looked shaky. “Aethelflaed, I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you, or tell someone to hurt you. I fucked up today. I wasn’t vigilant enough. But I didn’t order this.”

She nodded. Erik swallowed. He was torn between begging her to see this wasn’t his fault and burying himself in an avalanche of self-hate for letting this happen.

“You fought him off pretty well. Haesten’s a big guy.”

“He slashed me with the knife and I just got so angry. I managed to get away from him for a second, but then he grabbed my leg and twisted…I was wearing my shoes, you know, the ones from the party?” She looked embarrassed. “I was practicing walking in them. They’re so tall and…it was pathetic, I know, but…so when he grabbed me I wasn’t steady? I fell right down. But then I kicked him and the sharp heels made it pretty effective. I kept kicking him until he was on the floor. By the time I was standing, he was still struggling to get up. I just took that big legal textbook and hit him over the head with it. I did it a few times, just to be sure.”

“I think you might be the biggest badass I’ve ever met.”

Aethelflaed frowned and shook her head at Erik’s words.

“Seriously, Aethelflaed. That was incredible. I’ve seen people fight Haesten. Trained fighters struggle to take him down.”

“Well, I did have weapons.”

“Heels and a textbook.”

“Luckily I always have at least one of those nearby. I’ll be ready, for any future attacks.” She was trying to joke but the fear was still there. Erik took her hand between his, rubbing it as if to warm it.

“What can I do?”

Aethelflaed lay down, resting her head in his lap and curling her legs up against her. “Just stay with me, ok?”

“Of course.” He looked down at her. She had her eyes closed and her face was streaked with the salty trails of tears. There were bruises already showing. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again, ok, Aethelflaed? I promise. I’ll do better. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I don’t think you can promise that, Erik.”

“I don’t want anyone to know about the attack.”

Aethelflaed had cancelled her morning meeting with Uhtred, saying she needed to do more research. She was grateful that the trial didn’t resume until tomorrow. Erik was doing up his coat, preparing to go deal with Haesten. “What? Why?”

Aethelflaed winced. “It will draw attention away from the case. It will spook my family. It will make everything harder.”

“So you don’t want anyone to know that you can beat the shit out of a big dumb viking?” Erik wasn’t sure if he was joking for her benefit or for his. He had hardly slept, the sharp guilt pressing into him in the darkness. Now he was weighing his urgent desire to destroy Haesten with his fear of ever leaving Aethelflaed alone again.

“No one will see it that way, especially not my family. They’ll see a weak, vulnerable girl who needs more…supervision.”

“Supervision like, a man falling you around every hour of the day?”

“Supervision like going back to Wessex tomorrow and never making my own decisions again. So you’ll keep it quiet, right? Don’t tell Lene or anyone who can leak it.”

Erik considered it. He wanted to find out if Haesten was acting on his own or if he had been sent by someone. That would be easier to do if no one knew about the attack.

“Alright. I’ll make sure Dagfinn and Jon keep quiet. But I’m going to have to increase security around you, and that will require an explanation…” he was thinking out loud, working it out. “I’ll say there was a threat, something vague. A phone call? Can you lie about a phone call? Of course you can. Ok. No attack.”

“Good.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. If anything happens–”

“I’ll put on my heels.”

He actually cracked a smile. “I’ll get a dead bolt for the door, something you can lock from the inside.”

“Erik?” she called after him. “Can you bring back some cake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing a lot! Got to go do a thing in a couple of weeks and I want this story to be done before I leave. I love your comments. Thank you for leaving them. 
> 
> I think Alfred is a very difficult character, so I hope I got the gist of him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this chapter "angst but in nature."

The days after Haesten’s attack went as well as they could have. After Erik paid a visit to his house, Haesten made himself scarce. Erik knew a man like Haesten wasn’t easily scared off, so he didn’t fully relax. Besides, he suspected there was more to the attack than just Haesten.

Aethelflaed wore a brace until her ankle was steady again and covered her bruises with concealer until they faded. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. She preferred it that way: she had hated the fear she felt in Haesten’s presence, but she was even more anxious about the fear of others and how it could be used against her. An incident like this back in Wessex would have restricted her freedom even further, tightening the already narrow circle of places she could go and people she could see. Here, at least, her guard was Erik, and he never made her feel like a fragile object in need of protection.

When Erik arrived on Saturday morning, Aethelflaed was hard at work on her computer.

“You didn’t leave me any coffee!” Erik exclaimed.

“You get your own pot. Hit på, it’s ready to brew.”

Erik turned it on and leaned across the counter, trying to catch her eye over the laptop.

“You too busy for me today, Miss Engels?” he asked when she didn’t look up. He waited a beat. No response. “Ok, I’ll leave you be.”

He was already putting on his second boot when she finally reacted.

“No! Don’t go!” she jumped up, a little too frantically.

Erik smiled, not so secretly delighted by her eagerness. “Calm down, I’m still here.”

Aethelflaed took his hands, pulling him back into the kitchen. “I need twenty minutes, half an hour tops. Then breakfast, then I want to go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, outside. I’m not allowed to go out walking unless I have an escort, right? You can escort me, if you’re free.”

“I’m all yours. I’ll even make you breakfast while you get your work done.”

Aethelflaed smiled at Erik adoringly.

“Where are we going?”

“We are going hiking,” Erik replied, steering the car onto the highway.

“In the snow?” Aethelflaed asked incredulously.

“You’ve got boots, don’t you? You’re all set. Besides, it’s a lot safer hiking in the snow then walking you through downtown Beomfleet.”

Aethelflaed turned on the radio, tuning until she heard clear voices. She sat back contentedly. Erik gave her a look. “Why are we listening to this?”

“What is it? I listen to this station when I’m alone. I like the voices to keep my company.”

Erik reached over and turned it off. “Don’t listen to that.”

“What’s the problem?”

“That station is a bunch of right-wing bastards talking shit about everyone and everything, you included. In fact, I think they’ve called you out by name specifically. They’ve certainly said enough about me.”

Aethelflaed winced. “I guess I shouldn’t be falling asleep to them, then?”

Erik gave her a wide-eyed stare. “You’ve been falling asleep to this garbage?”

“I can’t understand the words, Erik. There’s no harm. Though…I have been waking up each morning hating women. I thought that was odd.”

Erik shook his head. “I can’t believe you’ve been contributing to their ratings.”

“I’m very sorry. I’m glad you’ve set things right. I’ll never tune in again.”

They spent the cold, sunny afternoon hiking through a forest trail. Aethelflaed was amazed by the snow-covered trees. There were birds flitting through the branches and they looked too delicate to endure this harshness. She wanted to know all about them, how they survived this, how they woke up every morning in this cold beautiful place and sang.

When they reached the waterfall at the end of the trail, she gasped. She could hear the rushing water underneath the shell of ice. Like the facade she presented to her family, to Aethelred, the ice looked solid and beautiful. But underneath was a torrent, unstoppable. The ice would crack, melt, fall away, and the water would rush on. If it hadn’t been for the cold working it’s way through the layers of clothing, she would have stayed there for hours, marvelling at the beauty of water moving between two states and the grace of gravity shaping something at once so strong and so fragile.

On the walk back to the car, she grabbed Erik’s gloved hand, pulling him to a stop.

“Listen to that.”

“To what? There’s nothing.”

“Exactly.” Aethelflaed closed her eyes, smiling. “It’s like I can _feel_ the silence, with the whole forest muted under a blanket of fresh snow.”

Erik watched her. He could see the snowflakes landing on her eyelashes and melting on her warm skin. The afternoon sunlight was soft on her face. Upon seeing her like this, so peaceful, Erik was suddenly brimming with new desires. He wanted to see her in every kind of light, every hour of the day, every season. He wanted a safe little cabin in the woods, just big enough for the two of them. He wanted to keep her there, all to himself. But she was starting to shiver. They were selfish, his desires. Aethelflaed didn’t belong here, and it wasn’t right to drag her any further into his cold, dark life.

“Come along before you freeze, Aethelflaed,” Erik said and led her back to the car.

They ate in a roadside diner, then drove back towards town. They got stuck behind an accident on the highway. Aethelflaed was content to be in the warm car with Erik all to herself. But he was looking anxious, eyes shifting to the clock, fingers tapping on the dashboard.

“What’s wrong, soldier? You missing curfew?” she teased.

“I’m going to be late for something. Sig is going to be pissed.”

“You have a meeting on a Saturday night?”

“Not exactly. It’s fight night.”

“Doing or watching?”

“Watching. But…well, business gets done. I have to be there.” They were finally moving forward, and Erik breathed a sigh of relief. But they were already running late and getting Aethelflaed home would take too long. “Do you mind coming with me? It won’t be long. I just need to show my face.”

Aethelflaed felt nervous about being in a crowd of Northmen, especially after her fight with Haesten. But Erik would be there. He’d keep her safe. Besides, she wanted to make him happy after all he’d done for her today. “Of course. Let’s go.”

The room was packed with people, most of them yelling at the men in the ring. Aethelflaed pulled the hood of her sweater up, hoping the thin layer of cloth would keep her safe from the press of bodies and aggressive voices. She followed Erik through the crowd until he stopped in front of a man she recognized. Dagfinn often worked in her building, keeping watch over Aethelflaed’s apartment.

Erik leaned in, asking Dagfinn to keep an eye on Aethelflaed for a few minutes. She felt nervous as she watched him slip away into the crowd toward Sig. She and Dagfinn shared an awkward moment until the next round began and he shifted his attention to the ring (though she noted his hand at his waist, casually resting on a weapon, like all the good security guards who worked at her home back in Winchester).

Another fight had begun by the time Erik reappeared, nodding to Dagfinn and taking Aethelflaed lightly by the hand. They made their way to a back exit and into a long, cold hallway.

“Erik!”

They both turned to see a dark, wiry man at the other hand of the hallway. Erik dropped Aethelflaed’s hand and walked down the hall, giving the man a hug. Aethelflaed watched them talk for a few moments. Every time Erik spoke, the man laughed, a loud sound that echoed through the space. He moved close to Erik to let some other folks pass, but then didn’t move away, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall and touch Erik’s arm. Aethelflaed felt a dark twist in her stomach. She looked away, trying to focus on the faded posters on the wall, but each time the man laughed, her attention was caught, and she was back to watching the two of them. Finally, Erik gestured her way and bid the man goodbye.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, holding the door for her to exit the building.

They were in the car, shivering as the engine warmed up, when Aethelflaed found the courage to speak.

“Who was that?”

“That was my friend Leif,” Erik replied, blowing warm air on his cold fingers before gripping the steering wheel.

“Just a friend?” Aethelflaed asked, cautiously.

Erik let go of the steering wheel, turning to stare at her. “Why do you ask that?”

Aethelflaed shrugged, regretting her question. “Just…the way he was with you. Laughing, touching you, looking at you like…”

“Like what?”

“Like I do.”

Erik was quiet for a moment, and she could tell he was thinking something through.

“We saw each other for a while. Not serious, but maybe he wanted it to be.”

Aethelflaed nodded in the darkness. She could see her breath, a thin cloud that hung for just a moment.

“Can you…say something?” Erik asked.

“Like what?”

“Like: gods, Erik, I didn’t know you liked men. That’s disgusting and I’d like to leave the country immediately.”

“I don’t think that!” she protested.

“What do you think?”

“I think…it’s fine. It’s good? I don’t know!” she sighed. “I guess I wonder when it ended, with him.”

Erik winced. “It didn’t end…exactly.”

Aethelflaed felt his words like a punch. “You’re still seeing him, then?”

“No, I’m not–I mean, I haven’t seen him in a while. But like I said, it was casual. Not much to end, you know?”

Aethelflaed smiled a weak smile. “Not really.”

Erik exhaled then released the brake, driving out of the parking lot.

When they pulled up to Aethelflaed’s building, Erik didn’t move.

“Are you coming up?”

“Maybe not tonight.”

Aethelflaed felt that vague panicky feeling again, like she was losing him. “Erik, I’m sorry. I don’t think I reacted properly. It’s just–”

“You’re jealous.”

“Yeah, I guess I am, a little.”

“You have no right to be jealous.” His tone was flat.

“I know. It’s so soon. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

“No, it’s not about how long it’s been. It’s about you. _You_ were jealous.” He looked up at her and his eyes were hard. “You have a fucking fiancé, Aethelflaed.”

“Erik–”

“You’re going to leave here. You’re going to go back and marry him and live this shiny boring life. You don’t get to be jealous when you have _him_.”

Erik had never been angry at her before. It wasn’t scary, just…lonely. Like he was drawing a line between them, one she couldn’t cross.

“I don’t want him,” she muttered. It was such a flimsy response.

Erik laughed, a harsh sound that scraped at Aethelflaed’s chest. “Until you figure out what you want, you can keep your jealousy to yourself, ok?”

Aethelflaed nodded foolishly, like he’d been asking her for an earnest response.

“Good night, Erik. Thanks for today.”

She climbed out of the car and stood on the icy sidewalk, watching him drive away.

Court was recessed on Monday, so Aethelflaed snuck in an interview with Uhtred. Erik had picked her up as usual, but he’d arrived right on time, not even asking for coffee.

She met Uhtred in one of the visiting rooms in the holding centre. He looked even more worn out than when she’d first arrived in Beomfleet. The long days in court were weighing on him. They were weighing on her, too, but until now she had Erik–he pulled her out of her head, kept her from sinking too deep into work. The trial would go on for weeks yet, and she would have to cope without him. And then, leaving Beomfleet, losing Erik for good–it hurt too much to think about.

“You look as bad as I feel,” Uhtred joked.

“Thanks,” Aethelflaed replied, shuffling through her papers to find the current list of questions.

“I’m sorry for all this,” Uhtred looked guilty. “Dragging you away from home, putting you through the stress of this case.”

“No, it’s not that,” Aethelflaed said, then regretted it. She saw Uhtred’s eyes widen a bit. He never missed a thing.

“Something else getting you down, elf?”

Aethelflaed shook her head, but at the same time she felt her eyes tearing up. _Very unprofessional, Aethelflaed, get it together_.

“Aethelflaed, talk to me,” Uhtred appealed, leaning forward.

“You don’t need to hear about my stupid problems right now, Uhtred.”

“I asked, didn’t I? Maybe I want a distraction from my own pathetic life. Is it my cousin? That asshole giving you trouble?” Uhtred disliked Aethelred and never pretended otherwise.

Then Aethelflaed made another mistake. When he mentioned Aethelred, her eyes darted to the other side of the glass, where Erik was talking with the guards. Uhtred followed her eye line and fixed his gaze on Erik. “He do something to you?”

“No. Erik is… good. We just haven’t been getting along, is all. You’re right, I’m just stressed out about the case and I’m tired of being supervised all the time, I guess.” He looked unconvinced. “Uhtred, it would really help if we could get on with our meeting. I have a lot to ask you before we go back into court.”

Uhtred finally relented. He leaned back in his chair and answered her questions one by one, while she scribbled notes in her own shorthand. After about an hour, she paused, staring at her paper. There was something there. Something she couldn’t quite pin down.

“The bachelor party–tell me about it.”

Uhtred sighed. “What’s there to tell? We drank too much. There were women, you know, ah–”

“Strippers.”

He smirked at her directness. “Dancers, yes.”

“You drank. You watched women dance. What else? Did everyone get along?”

Uhtred narrowed his eyes, thinking. “No, there was a fight. But there’s always a fight at a party, right?”

She laughed. “I have never once gotten into a fight at a party.”

“You must be doing it wrong.”

“Fight over what? And who was involved?” she was gaining momentum, getting closer and closer to something.

“I have no idea what it was over. Odda–”

“Senior or Junior?”

“Senior. He was angry about something. He was yelling about respect or something?”

“Respecting the treaty?”

“Maybe?”

“And then someone hit him, right? Punched him and he went down?”

“Yes! How did you know that?”

Aethelflaed heaved a big sigh. “Who hit him, Uhtred?”

He looked confused at her reaction, and then he got it. “Aethelred. He fought Aethelred. Over the treaty.”

Aethelflaed chewed the end of her pen, thinking. “Something happened that weekend. Aethelred told me that story, about the fight at the party. But I think there was more to it, because he started to tell it around Alfred and Aldhelm hushed him up. I remember because I didn’t want to hear it again, and I was relieved, but why would Aldhelm stop him? There was more to it. The party was around when that information was leaked, wasn’t it? About the security protocols.”

“The story went out the week after the party.”

Aethelflaed loved Uhtred’s (sober) memory, though of course she would have to double check it all. “We need to know more about that party. I’m calling them in as witnesses.”

“Aethelred? Aldhelm? Odda?”

“All of them.”

“Odda won’t remember. He was black out drunk. And Aldhelm won’t speak against Aethelred if it might make him look bad.”

Aethelflaed considered it. “Aldhelm’s not an idiot.”

“Are you sure?”

She laughed. “No. But I think I can work with him.”

Uhtred rubbed his eyes. “Are we done for the day?”

“You are. I’ll arrange for the new witnesses to be called and prepare my examination.”

Uhtred stood up, though he couldn’t go far with his hands cuffed to the table. “Aethelred in Beomfleet, eh? That’ll be something.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for more incarceration scenes.

Erik left Aethelflaed with Lene and a room full of reporters and went to the holding centre. He was taken directly to Uhtred’s cell–with his security clearance, he didn’t need to be monitored while he visited a prisoner. He was grateful for that, as he had no idea what Uhtred would say and he didn’t want anyone to overhear. But that kind of freedom also made him itchy; who else had this clearance and how did they use it? How many prisoners ended up beaten or dead at the hands of people in Sig’s circle?

Uhtred was laying on his cot, but sat up when Erik entered the cell.

“What can I do for you, Uhtred?”

“You can tell me what the fuck you did to Aethelflaed.”

A frantic corner of Erik’s heart reacted–what did he mean? Had someone hurt Aethelflaed? But of course not, he’d just seen her. Uhtred must be asking because of his interview with her the day before.

“What did _I_ do to Aethelflaed? It’s my job to protect her. I haven’t done anything to her.”

Uhtred just glared at him. Fuck, he was intimidating.

“What did she say to you?” Erik asked.

“Nothing. But last week she showed up with a limp and a bandaged shoulder. And yesterday she looked more crushed than she did the day I told her unicorns aren’t real. So I want to know how you hurt her.”

Erik sighed. “There was an attack last week. One of my men. It shouldn’t have happened. But I didn’t hurt her, Uhtred. At least not physically.”

“Not physically. What, are you picking up tricks on emotional abuse from that piece of shit fiancé of hers?”

Erik felt sick to his stomach. His instincts had been right, then. Aethelred Mercer was a bastard, and Erik had told Aethelflaed to go back to him.

“No. I just made it clear it wasn’t going to work for us.”

Uhtred looked perplexed for a moment, then understanding dawned on his face. Erik was almost relieved that someone else knew.

“She’s upset now, Uhtred, but if I waited…it would be worse. It was only going to get harder.” He looked up at the prisoner. “Can you keep this to yourself?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t do anything to put her at risk.”

“Neither would I,” Erik said. “Anything else?”

Uhtred shook his head.

Erik opened the cell door, but then paused and turned back. “Are they treating you well in here?”

Uhtred smirked. “Does it matter if they aren’t?”

“It matters to me.” Erik watched Uhtred for a moment. “If you need something, or if something happens, you tell Aethelflaed to come to me.”

“It’s funny, Erik. She told me the same thing on her first visit. She said you would help. That you were a good man.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. Good luck, Uhtred.”

As he made his way to the exit, Erik felt overwhelmed. He had fallen for her so quickly. It was absurd, how painful this all was. He thought back to the day she’d arrived, when he’d decided to take this to time to figure out what he wanted. Maybe he’d cursed himself into wanting something he could never have. He drove straight to the gym, hopeful he could work out some of this shitty energy on a punching bag.

An hour later, Erik was soaked in sweat and only mildly less aggravated. He was leaning against the wall, watching the sparring in the ring when someone slid up beside him.

“Twice in one week. How’d I get so lucky?”

It was Leif, still dressed in the scrubs he wore to work. He tilted his head, smiling at Erik like he was looking at something rare and captivating. That was exactly what had charmed Erik all those months ago, when they’d met during a training session at the gym; Leif was so present, so engaged in every conversation. It felt good to have someone’s undivided attention.

Even better, Leif was also outside of it all. He wasn’t from the militia or part of the government. Erik didn’t even know his politics. The only contact Leif had with Erik’s world was at fights, and even there, civilians usually kept a bit of distance from the militia, who had a reputation for being rowdy.

At first, Erik had enjoyed Leif’s detachment. Being with him was a refreshing break from the bullshit of Erik’s daily life. It was painfully ironic to Erik that he’d now gone to the opposite extreme, falling for someone who was so deeply embedded in the bullshit that being with her might just blow up his whole world. Then again, it wasn’t so surprising. One of the reasons Erik and Leif were still casual was that Erik had to hold back so much of himself. _Oh, you saved a few lives on your shift? Well I talked my brother out of torturing a priest. So I guess we’re even._ Erik’s desires were at odds with each other; he wanted someone who was a part of his world but not, who could understand what he was going through but who wasn’t invested in the chaos that was Sig. Aethelflaed fit the bill pretty well, after all.

“How’s it going, Leif?”

“Good. Work is hectic as fuck, but I like it. I haven’t seen you around much.”

 _Cause I stopped returning your phone calls, like a cowardly lion_. “I’ve been busy. I’m working this big assignment that takes up all my time. I haven’t even been to the gym in a month.”

Leif nodded, not challenging Erik’s flimsy excuses. Not yet. “Yeah, I’ve heard…things. It sounds like you have a lot on your plate.”

“What’d you hear?”

Leif shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “This guy came into the clinic last week with mild head trauma. He was brought in by some militia guys. I recognized them from the fights.”

Erik froze. Fucking Haesten. “I didn’t know you worked at the clinic,” he said, trying to sound casually uninterested.

“I just started picking up shifts there. It’s either really boring or complete chaos. But I’m sure you know that because you’re high up in the militia, right? Anyway, we’re not really supposed to ask many questions at the clinic. Just enough so we can treat everyone safely. But sometimes people talk and this dude had a lot to say. I didn’t catch much, because one of his friends shut him up, but it was something about Erik’s crazy chick and Sigefrid.” He tilted his head again, gazing at Erik, “You know anything about that?”

Erik laughed. “My crazy chicks and I are strictly confidential.”

“Just like everything else in your life.”

There was a tiny hint of resentment in Leif’s voice. Erik didn’t even know Leif could _get_ angry. He was so easy-going about everything. That’s what made him such a great ER nurse, Erik imagined, as he could keep his cool in any situation.

“You know, I have to get going,” Erik said.

“Back to that assignment.”

Erik threw up his hands, like he was just a normal guy, late for a shift at the…where did normal guys work? Chair factories?

“It was good to see you though, Leif. I’m sorry I haven’t been…available. I just don’t want to involve anyone in my shit right now. It’s not a great place to be.”

“You’re a hero, Erik. Keeping everyone safe from the perils of being around you.”

This was going south, fast. Erik patted Leif on the back awkwardly and squeezed past him, skipping the locker room altogether. He’d just have to pick up Aethelflaed smelling like a dirty sock. It might actually help with the whole not fucking each other thing.

4:15 am. That’s when Erik woke up abruptly, Leif’s words echoing in his head. _Sigefrid_. Haesten had mentioned Sigefrid. That wasn’t that unusual, as Sig was basically Haseten’s boss. But why then? Why when Aethelflaed had just thwarted Haesten’s attack?

Erik jumped out of bed and opened his laptop. He scrolled through the calendar, toggling on Sigefrid’s personal calendar. As security officer, he had access to everything. Or at least he thought he did.

He scanned the appointments in the days leading up to the attack. Gods, Sig had an entry for everything. Probably his secretary’s attempt at keeping him on track. And there it was, right between a briefing from Lene and a date with Alva: meeting with Haesten. Roughly fifty hours before Haesten showed up at Aethelflaed’s apartment. Was Sig stupid enough to actually put the meeting in his calendar? The answer was yes.

Before Erik could fully process the implications of this meeting, he realized something else. He had been purposefully distracted. The last minute meeting with the finance advisor, an evening meeting that Erik just _had_ to be at because of the relation of import laws to port security, the meeting that fucking Lene had arranged: it was a set up. He was meant to be in that room, busy, while Aethelflaed was all alone.

Erik yelled in frustration, slamming his hand down on the table. Sig wanted Aethelflaed hurt. Why, so she’d go home? He must know how protective her family was. But what if it was worse? What if Sig wanted her dead? And what the hell were his plans for Erik?

“Good morning, Lene.”

Lene looked up from her computer and smiled at Erik. “Good morning!”

“I brought coffee and a brownie.”

Lene’s face lit up. “Thank you! Did we have a meeting?”

Erik shrugged off his coat and sat down across from Lene. “Nothing on the books. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Lene nodded, typing something into her computer, then turning decisively towards him. She picked up her coffee and sipped it, letting out a little sigh of delight. “How can I help you?”

“I’m a little confused about something. You had me meet with that financial guy a little while ago. The incredibly dull one? I’m just curious as to why I needed to meet with him. Granted, I zoned out a little during his talk, so maybe I missed it. But I wanted to check with you and make sure I was doing my job correctly, you know, not missing anything…major.”

Lene’s expression faltered for the briefest of moments before she recovered her poise. “We just wanted your expertise on the proposed changes to the import taxes.”

“Of course, because of my excellent background in import taxes. Here I was thinking my expertise would have been more valuable somewhere else that evening.” He leaned back in his chair and dropped the act. “Why’d you do it, Lene? Why did you play along with Sig’s fucking plan? Did you just not know? Because I don’t think you’re that foolish.”

Lene had the decency to look ashamed. “Erik, I am sorry.”

“I thought you liked Aethelflaed.”

“I did! I do. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her. But Sigefrid had already decided.” She looked up at Erik, a pleading, desperate edge to her gaze. “Have you ever tried saying no to Sig?”

Erik raked a hand through his hair. “11 years old. I wouldn’t share a gift my dad had sent. He broke my arm.”

“So you know. You _know_ what kind of a position I was in.”

Erik threw his hands up in defeat. He couldn’t be truly angry at Lene, not when he knew how fucking scary Sig could be.

“Ok, so you were legitimately worried that Sig would harm you if you refused to help him. But what about you and me, Lene? I brought you so many brownies.”

Lene smiled tentatively. “And now that you know, you still brought me a brownie.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a bit of a chump.” He stood up and put on his coat.

“What are you going to do, Erik?” Lene asked.

He sighed. “You know I can’t tell you that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some destructive anger in this chapter. Also a lot of cheesy angst as Aethelflaed and Erik make a decision about the future.

It was Erik’s shift overnight but he stayed in the security office. Aethelflaed tried to sleep , but her head was too full of half-formed thoughts. She could picture him down the hall, with an absurdly large thermos of coffee.

It was one of those anxious sleepless nights. Each time Aethelflaed looked at the clock, she found herself counting down the hours until Aethelred’s arrival: ten hours, nine hours, eight and a half hours. She finally dozed off, but not for long. She woke with a lurch and glanced at the clock. It was only two-thirty am, and Aethelflaed was exhausted, wide awake, and alone in a bed that had never felt more empty.

She got up.

Erik was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed while he listened to music. He loved nighttime radio, when the hosts played those slow, deep songs that were too weird for daytime listeners. He’d worked a lot of night shifts in the militia, before he and Sig had risen through the ranks and taken on bigger roles. Night time was calm. Nothing else in Erik’s life was calm.

“Can I come in?”

Aethelflaed stood in the doorway, in soft clothes and sock feet. Erik nodded and watched as she shut the door behind her, sliding down to sit on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest.

“Everything ok?”

“Yes,” she answered. “No.”

Erik waited for her to go on. It was a long silence, but he wouldn’t be the one to break it.

“I’ve made a decision,” she said, tying and untying the strings of her hoodie. “Do you want to hear it?”

Erik sighed. “Sure.”

“I’m not going back.”

“To court?” he asked, stupidly.

“To Wessex.”

His face softened. “Aethelflaed…”

“Bad idea, right? But I can’t do it. I can’t marry him.”

“This is about Aethelred, then? You can break it off, Aethelflaed, and still go home. You don’t need to ruin your life over a bad relationship.”

“It’s not about Aethelred. It’s about you. You’re too good, Erik. You’ve been kind to me every moment, like it doesn’t cost you anything. Like it just comes natural to you. You’re funny and smart. And you’re so good to look at. When you smile? It’s like–” she stopped, taking a deep breath. “I sound ridiculous, but I don’t know how to say it. You’ve caught me. I’m caught in this current and I can’t swim back upstream, you know? It’s just not possible. Now that I know you, I need to be with you.”

When she finished speaking, Erik dropped his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he muttered into his palms.

“Yeah,” Aethelflaed agreed.

“Your family?”

“You could be my family.”

He laughed, rubbing his eyes. “Gods, I’m too tired for this. I want to tell you no. That’s the right thing to say. No, Aethelflaed, we can’t do this.”

“You don’t sound very convincing.”

“Tomorrow, he’ll get off that plane and you’ll change your mind,” Erik argued, though his tone was weak.

“I definitely won’t,” she reassured him.

“You can’t live in Beomfleet.”

“Why not? I have the boots and everything.”

“Sigefrid would be a problem.”

“Then we’ll deal with him. Or we’ll go somewhere else. Far away.” She smiled at him, her face alight with a wretched hope. “What else have you got?”

He shook his head. He looked exhausted, and Aethelflaed relented. “I’m certain, Erik. You can’t talk me out of this. But I’m not going to talk you into it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He appeared at her doorway the next morning–a mere five hours after they last spoke–feeling and looking awful. He had not even told her about what Sig had done. Aethelflaed let him in wordlessly, pouring him a cup of hot coffee, which he was grateful to accept.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Forty minutes,” he muttered, folding forward onto the counter.

“I can call someone to take me to the courthouse. You can stay here and sleep, or maybe we could drop you off at your home, wherever that is.”

“It’s fine, Aethelflaed. I’m fine.”

“Erik, you look terrible. Should you even be driving on this little sleep?”

“I’ve done more on less.”

“But you aren’t just tired, are you? It’s…worse. You came here to tell me something bad.”

He lifted his head just enough to look at her, but she had her back to him, stirring the sugar into her mug.

“Yes, I did. Maybe we should both sit down,” he said, gesturing to the couch, even though she couldn’t see him.

“No, no, just tell me. Just get it over with, Erik.”

Erik took a deep breath. “Sig ordered your attack. I don’t know why and I don’t know what his intentions were. I’m not even sure if he meant to just hurt you or to kill you, but Haesten was acting on his orders.”

Aethelflaed spun around, a stunned look on her face. “That’s what you came here to tell me?”

Erik was confused. “Of course. That’s a big deal, right? It’s bad news. I’m not overreacting or something? My brother tried to kill the woman I love…” His voice trailed off. “That’s not what you were waiting to hear.” He dropped his head back into his arms. He was very stupid when he was tired.

“I told you I wanted you, Erik. I said I’d give up everything for you and I asked you to do the same. And now you’re here to talk to me about your brother?” Aethelflaed sounded angry. Erik couldn’t see, his face still firmly buried in his arms.

“I might have…forgotten.”

There was a crash, like she’d just dropped a dish. He sat up. She had smashed his mug of coffee in the sink. He was momentary grateful there were no legal books within reach.

“You forgot,” she said quietly, almost calmly. Then she opened the cupboard over the sink, took out the mugs one by one, and smashed them. Granted, there were only three, but it was an impressive show of anger. When the noise was finally over, the sink was full of broken ceramic. Aethelflaed turned around again and picked up her own mug, the only one left intact. Erik flinched as she lifted it, but she didn’t drop it. Instead, she took a small, dainty sip.

“I’d like you to leave now, Erik.”

“I can’t do that. There’s more to discuss, and I need to take you to work–”

“I will walk. I don’t mind. I like walking.” She strolled over to the door and opened it, holding it expectantly.

“You can’t walk anywhere. Didn’t you hear me? The most powerful man in Beomfleet paid someone to hurt you. And he failed, so he’s likely to try again. You can’t be alone right now.”

Aethelflaed frowned and closed the door. “Fine. But I don’t want to deal with you.”

“Aethelflaed, I have more to say to you. I didn’t just come here to talk about Sig. Can we please start over? Can I just have a shower and I’ll come out and we can pretend like this never happened?”

Aethelflaed frowned deeper. “We can’t pretend that nothing happened when the sink is full of broken dishes.”

Erik snorted, an overtired laugh. “I’ll deal with that when you’re at work.”

Aethelflaed thought about it some more. Erik waited in agony. “There are clean towels in the dryer,” she said at last. “And I’ll let you share my coffee cup when you come out. I _might_ let you. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Thank you,” Erik slipped past her, wanting to kiss her but not sure he should push his luck.

Erik came back into the living room looking clean and slightly more human. He’d even changed into clothes he’d stashed here. Aethelflaed was curled up on the couch reading a stack of papers. She didn’t look up when he entered the room. She wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Aethelflaed,” Erik said, dropping down onto the couch next to her.

She lowered the papers and peered at him.

“You know the first snowfall of the year? The earth is brown and soggy with dead leaves and everything is bleak and grey. But then it snows. You step outside in the morning and everything is brand new. All the mud and decay is gone, as if the world has started over. It feels like anything is possible.” He paused to run his fingers through his wet hair, a nervous sort of gesture. “That’s you, Aethelflaed. My life is just this shitty, dark place full of rot and violence, and you are this beautiful possibility that things can be better, that the world could be _good_. I was waiting and waiting for something to shift and suddenly, there you were. Through some strange miracle you want me too. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I don’t deserve it. But I love you, Aethelflaed, and I cannot give you up.”

He was out of breath at the end of his speech. For a moment he believed he had failed. But Aethelflaed picked up her mug and offered it to him.

“Do you want to share my coffee?”

Erik groaned in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of Aethelflaed being fairly controlled most of the time and then slipping in these brief, messy ways, like smashing the cups. Does it work? Maybe?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aethelred and Aldhelm arrive in Beomfleet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some smut in this chapter. Also some misogyny.

Aethelred and Aldhelm arrived at the courthouse around ten am, straight off their flight from Winchester. Odda had been unable to attend, as he was too ill. Aethelflaed wasn’t worried, though. He had promised her a written statement, and she knew that Mildrith, his chief of staff, would make sure it got done.

Aethelflaed took several deep breaths in her office. Count to five in, count to five out. It had been a hell of a day and it had only just begun. She and Erik hadn’t had anytime to discuss _how_ exactly they would be together, as she had rushed off to court and he had gone home to sleep. Plus, she was finally realizing the seriousness of his news about Sig. She felt bad for her outburst. Of course it was a big deal that the leader of Beomfleet had made a move on her life. It was, frankly, terrifying, and she couldn’t fathom how much it must hurt Erik to be so at odds with his very own brother. She would have to apologize to him after…everything else.

Aethelflaed exited her office and walked down the hall, joining Lene at the entrance. A sleek car had pulled up–only the best for Aethelred–and he climbed out, beaming and not at all disheveled from his journey. Aldhelm stepped out the other side, looking a little more rumpled and a lot more concerned. At least one of them was taking this seriously.

“Darling!” Aethelred exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. She made herself relax a little, embracing him back.

“I’m grateful that you came,” Aethelflaed said, speaking to both Aethelred and Aldhelm.

“Of course. Though I’m not sure how I’m supposed to make Uhtred appear innocent,” Aethelred smirked.

“No need to make him appear innocent. Just answer my questions honestly and I’ll do all the arguing.”

She introduced both men to Lene, who explained their itinerary and led them down the hall to a room where they would wait to be called. On their way, they passed Uhtred, who was being escorted into the courtroom.

“Those handcuffs suit you, Uhtred,” Aethelred said, “I think you should adopt that look permanently.”

“Don’t involve me in your kinks, Aethelred,” Uhtred replied wearily.

“You should be a bit more respectful,” Aethelred spat back. “After all, I’m here to help you, against my better judgment.”

“I’m as grateful to you as always, cousin. Now do me another favour, won’t you? Don’t upset my lawyer. She has important work to do.”

“How exactly would I upset Aethelflaed?”

Uhtred performed his trademark shrug. “Maybe she catches sight of your face, and she’s too disgusted to continue work? Maybe you remind her about the wedding, and she falls into a deep depression? You are the real expert on disappointing women, Aethelred, so I defer to you.”

Aldhelm had his hand on Aethelred’s shoulder, urging him to hold back. Uhtred grinned a mean, self-satisfied grin as he was dragged into the courtroom.

The examinations of the witnesses went well enough. Aethelflaed chose to call Aldhelm first, hopeful that he wouldn’t be able to lie in support of Aethelred’s testimony if he didn’t hear it first. Aldhelm was direct and composed, a model witness. The opposing counsel had little to ask him, so Aethelflaed was able to call Aethelred by late afternoon. She knew his examination would carry on into tomorrow, and that pleased her. It would give her time tonight to review Aldhelm’s answers and revise her questions.

Court was dismissed around five pm, though the gaggle of press outside the courthouse kept Aethelred occupied until well-past six. When he was finally free, Aethelflaed approached him. She was worried that otherwise it would be obvious that she’d entirely checked out of the relationship.

“Do you have accommodations set up?” she asked.

“Yes, we both have rooms in a hotel nearby. Stop by later tonight. I’ll be back around nine or ten.”

“Back?” Aethelflaed asked, choosing to ignore that he did not actually _ask_ her to come see him, “back from where?”

“I’ve got a meeting. I should be leaving–” he checked his watch, “right now. See you later, darling.”

He left her alone on the courthouse steps, cold and confused.

“Heck you, you hecking papers!” Aethelflaed was kneeling on the floor of her office, trying to collect the dozens of papers she had just knocked off her desk. The pages and pages of notes that she…hadn’t numbered. “Gahhhh!”

“Everything ok?”

She looked up at Erik, standing in the doorway.

“No, it is not. Everything is a mess. I just added an extra hour to my work day. Aethelred just disappeared to some meeting? And I didn’t want to spend the evening with him, but who is he meeting?” She desperately shuffled papers while she talked and then let out a small cry. “And I just gave myself a paper cut.”

Erik crouched down beside her. “How can I help?”

Aethelflaed felt mildly pathetic. Ok, extremely pathetic. She shook her head. “You should go. I don’t want to keep you.”

Erik reached out and pushed the hair out Aethelflaed’s face. He traced his fingers down her cheek, her jaw. She bit her lip.

“What if I want you to keep me?” he whispered.

Aethelflaed closed her eyes and tilted her head, just enough to rub her cheek on his knuckles. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her face hard. “Lock the door.”

He obeyed, then reached down for her hand, ready to pull her to her feet. But she resisted. “Stand here.”

Erik stood in front of her and looked down, confused. She reached around to grip his ass, pulling him even closer to her, then traced her hand to the front, rubbing his cock through his pants. He let out a low moan.

“Aethelflaed, you don’t have to–” he moaned again.

“I want to,” she said, undoing his belt, his zipper. She met his eyes and she could see doubt there. “Erik, when I’m with you, I never do anything I don’t want to do. So,” she reached into his boxers, stroking the length of him. He hardened in her hand. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes,” he pleaded, and the word had never been so short or so urgent.

She took him in her mouth. He groaned and swore, then grabbed her hair and pulled in a way that made her gasp. He looked down, immediately apologetic, but she just took him in deeper. For the next few minutes, he was hers, entirely hers. It was a powerful feeling.

“Fuck, Aethelflaed, wait,” he said.

She stopped, looking up at him expectantly.

“Up, get up.”

Erik pulled her to her feet and picked her up, placing her on the edge of the desk. He pulled a condom from the pocket of his jeans and rolled it on.

“Got one on hand, I see,” she teased.

“I’ve learned that I need to be ready for you.” He pushed up her skirt, freeing her legs so they could wrap around him. She could hear the papers under his boots, ripping as he positioned himself, but she didn’t care, because he was pulling aside her underwear. Aethelflaed arched her back and moaned as he pushed inside her. He leaned forward and dropped rough, biting kisses on her chest.

“Undo your shirt,” he muttered and she groped for the buttons, tugging at them until her blouse fell open. He pulled her bra down with his teeth, his hands still busy gripping her waist, steadying her so he could thrust deeper. Her breasts were free and he gave them each his attention, flicking his tongue over her nipples until she whimpered.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching and then a knock on the door. They both froze, staring at each other, wide-eyed.

“Aethelflaed?”

She recognized Aldhelm’s voice. What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he with Aethelred? She shook her head at Erik, signalling him to be quiet.

There was a long silence and Erik started to rock against her again, slowly. She opened her mouth as if to moan and he clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her just before Aldhelm knocked on the door again. Erik did not seem interested in stopping, though, and he kept thrusting into her. She bit his hand, desperate to stay quiet as she came.

Finally, they heard footsteps leading away down the hallway. Erik had been holding back and he groaned, collapsing against her on the desk. Aethelflaed leaned back, catching her breath. Then the sheer absurdity of the situation struck her. She had just been fucked on her desk by this big, sweet viking of a man while her fiancé’s advisor knocked on her door. She suppressed the urge to laugh.

Erik straightened and started to put himself back together, pulling up his pants. He shook his head. “You are a dangerous fucking woman.”

Once she was fully dressed, Aethelflaed decided to go find Aldhelm.

“Stay here,” she told Erik. “ I don’t want him to see you coming out of my office.”

“Of course, Miss Engels. I’ll just hide in here, cleaning up your papers until you see fit to free me.”

She rolled her eyes at his tone.

The courthouse was quiet, though she knew that behind office doors there were other clerks and lawyers hard at work. The sound of her footsteps echoed as she made her way down the hallway to the small lobby, where there were a couple of worn out couches. Sure enough, Aldhelm was there, typing on a laptop.

“Aldhelm!” she feigned surprise. “What are you still doing here? I thought you would be off with Aethelred, at that meeting.”

“Just the bigwigs tonight. No need for a lowly advisor like me,” he joked.

“I’m disappointed to hear I’m not one of the bigwigs. But I guess I’m in good company.” She could hear the flirtatious lilt in her words and she hated herself for it. But she needed to control this situation as much as possible.

“I thought you had gone,” Aldhelm said, “I stopped by your office, but there was no answer.”

Aethelflaed laughed. “You must have caught me during my nap. I’ve truly turned into my father, falling asleep at my desk.” She hoped the mussed hair that she hadn’t fully tidied would back her up. She certainly had the circles under her eyes to attest to her exhaustion. “I was just on my way to the vending machine.”

“We could get some real food?” Aldhelm looked self-conscious even as he invited her. “I mean, if you’re not too busy with work.”

“That would be nice. We could talk. Can you wait here while I grab my things?”

Aldhelm made as if to stand. “I’ll come with you."

“No, no, you stay here. I have to sort through some papers. It might take a while. And I’m not supposed to leave without an escort, so I’ll have to track down whichever guard they’ve assigned me today.”

Aldhelm frowned. “Not much of a guard if you have to go find them.”

She grinned back at him. “Yes, well, they aren’t as…rigorous as Saxon security. I’ll meet you here in about fifteen minutes.”

Erik _had_ cleaned up all her papers and stacked them neatly on the desk. It made her heart ache a bit to see him waiting in the middle of her suddenly tidy office.

“Found him. I told him I was napping.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you’ve ever napped in your life.”

Aethelflaed laughed at Erik’s accuracy. She definitely was not the napping type. It was not considered ladylike and she’d been trained to be a true lady. Then again, going down on someone in your office wasn’t ladylike either. At least, it hadn’t come up in the manual of acceptable behaviour Aelswith had gifted her on her thirteenth birthday.

“I’m going to dinner with Aldhelm. It might be useful to figure out what Aethelred is doing. And I am actually very hungry.”

“Great, where should we go?”

“I was hoping we could go alone? Just me and him? It might make things easier…”

“Aethelflaed, you know I can’t let you do that.”

“Because you’re wildly jealous and you can’t stand me to be alone with another man?”

“No, because there are very powerful people who want to hurt you. I could call in another guard, if that would make you more comfortable, but it would take a while. And I am on duty tonight.”

“You’ve been on duty a lot lately.”

“Yes, well, I screwed up once…”

Aethelflaed took his hand, clasping it between her own. “Erik, that wasn’t your fault. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“We’re never going to agree on that. I was in charge of protecting you and you got hurt. But going forward: no more mistakes. Ok?”

“Ok.”

Erik gathered his coat and toque. As they were preparing to leave, he looked at Aethelflaed oddly. “Why would I be jealous of some Saxon?”

Aethelflaed blushed. “I think he likes me. Well, I know he likes me. And…I was planning to use that, a little, to…get some information.”

He laughed. “Well, don’t let me stop you. I’ll be the surly guard and you can be the charming woman, just looking for a little help.”

The three of them ended up at a cozy, fire lit pub near the courthouse, the same place with the honey cake Erik loved. Aethelflaed thought back to when he brought her here on a stormy afternoon, tucking her into a secluded booth like she was something precious.

Aethelflaed chose a table in the corner and Aldhelm sat across from her. Erik dragged over a chair and sat down between them. He leaned forward on his elbows, occupying half the table. It fascinated Aethelflaed how Erik’s body worked: he could have perfect posture for hours, standing erect in the back of the courtroom, and then he would relax and just…sprawl out, filling any space available to him. Tonight, it just compounded the awkwardness of the whole situation, and she saw Aldhelm peer at her over Erik’s arms.

Erik seemed to register some of the nervous energy radiating around him. He cleared his throat and sat up, just a little.

“Don’t worry,” he said to Aldhelm. “I don’t understand any English. You may speak freely.”

Aethelflaed had to swallow hard to keep from laughing. She gave Erik a sharp kick under the table, catching him in the ankle.

“You know what? This seems boring. I’m going to go eat at the bar.” He stood up. “Call me if you need me, Miss Engels.”

Aldhelm looked relieved to see him go.

“So that’s one of the notorious Thurgilson brothers. Is he around a lot?”

Aethelflaed shrugged. “He’s in charge of my security while I’m here. He takes his shifts.”

“And have you been safe while you’re here?”

“Yes, they’ve taken excellent care of me. No trouble at all,” she said smoothly. Erik was right; she was becoming disturbingly good at lying. “And how have you been, Aldhelm? How is Wessex?”

“Things have been going well. Mercer Holdings is thriving. Though Aethelred has been missing you, of course.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Has he?”

Aldhelm faltered a little. “We all have. But it seems like the trial is going well.”

Aethelflaed’s face lit up. She was proud of the work she’d done this week. “Yes, I think I’m on the right track. I’m hopeful that with today and tomorrow’s testimony, Uhtred will be exonerated by the end of the month.”

“God help Wessex when he is,” Aldhelm said drily.

Aethelflaed couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t like Uhtred, but he is a decent man. He has been a good friend to me for a long time. I can always depend on him.”

“Then he’s done something right, I suppose.”

Throughout dinner, Aethelflaed asked gentle probing questions about Aethelred’s business, framing it as the concern of a worried fiancee, though they both knew that wasn’t true. Aldhelm gave little away, though, no matter how much she laughed and smiled. He had become kinder to her in recent months, but he was still loyal to Aethelred. She could not understand why. Aldhelm was smarter than Aethelred. He could succeed without trailing behind that richer man. She wanted to challenge him on his loyalty, but she didn’t want to raise his suspicions.

“He is watching you, Aethelflaed.”

Aethelflaed was thrown off by the apprehension in Aldhelm’s voice. She turned her head slightly, following his gaze to the bar. Erik was chatting with the bartender, but Aldhelm was right; Erik’s eyes regularly darted back to her, as if he was constantly ensuring she was still there, still close.

Aethelflaed turned back to Aldhelm with an unconcerned smile. “It is his job, Aldhelm. If anything were to happen to me, Sigefrid would hold him responsible. And Sigefrid is a very frightening man, even to his brother, I think.”

Aldhelm nodded, but his eyes kept their unease. “I worry, Aethelflaed, that you are surrounded by boorish men, men who do not respect you or your father. I’m surprised that your father allowed you to come here unaccompanied.”

Aethelflaed straightened a bit, feeling the resentment rise in her chest. “I’m surprised to hear you are so concerned for my well-being, Aldhelm. You did not seem too bothered when Aethelred screamed at me during my last visit to Mercer Holdings. Or when he called me a whore at that party, when I spoke to that ambassador? You did not object to that.” Aldhelm was visibly uncomfortable, but Aethelflaed went on. “Perhaps I just misunderstood. Perhaps that was your boss’s way of respecting me and my father, and I’m just too naive to see it. Whereas Erik sitting thirty feet away and occasionally looking in my direction is the truly disrespectful. In future, I will be sure to consult you on how I should be treated.”

Aldhelm opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. Now that she’d had her moment of righteousness, she could have filled the silence and smoothed over his discomfort. But she wanted him to feel it, the weight of his own complicity. She was beginning to like Aldhelm, but she wasn’t going to let him off easy.

When they were done, Erik offered Aldhelm a ride back to his hotel. Aldhelm asked if Aethelflaed would be joining him there to wait for Aethelred. She refused as graciously as possible, insisting she’d be terrible company with all the work rattling around in her brain.

Once Aldhelm was out of sight, Aethelflaed moved to the front scene, rubbing her cold legs.

“That’s wasteful,” Erik said as Aethelflaed turned the heat to full blast.

“But I’m freezing, Erik!”

“You should just dress warmer,” he scolded her.

“Mmm, well until you knit me a handsome sweater for my legs, I’ll be turning up the heat. But I promise not to crank up the radiators in my apartment, so long as you promise to warm me up.”

“Miss Engels, you will never get your work done if you are constantly trying to bed me.”

“Then we won’t do it in a bed.”

Erik laughed and shook his head. They drove in silence. When they parked outside her building, Aethelflaed didn’t move.

“I’m sorry about Sigefrid,” she said. “And I’m sorry for not recognizing this morning how difficult this is for you.”

Erik drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, an expression of his angry energy. “It was coming for a long time.”

“What was?”

“The break. Me and Sig–we don’t want the same things. I missed it somehow, the disconnect between us. I was fighting to make things better, but he was just fighting to fight. We had this awful fucking childhood. Our mum working so hard, but never enough to pay the bills. I turned 18 in a cell and the only reason Sig didn’t is because he could fight his way out of anything. My mum died young and alone, neither of us could be with her.” He shook his head at Aethelflaed’s sympathetic expression. “It wasn’t just us. It wasn’t like we were some unique tragedy. It was everyone we cared about, everyone we knew, living and dying on the margins. I thought, once we made it this far, we could fix things. Not everything, but some things. Help out kids like us, people like our mother. But Sig doesn’t want power so he can defund prisons and guarantee healthcare. He just wants power.” He dragged his hand down his face. “I was such a fool.”

“There’s nothing foolish about believing in someone.”

“A smarter man would have seen through Sig years ago. A smarter man would have intervened. Instead, I helped him every step of the way. And now Beomfleet’s under the power of another angry, greedy asshole.” He spat out the last few words and pounded on the steering wheel.

“Do you want to come upstairs? I’ve got more dishes to break. Glasses, a few plates. My mother even packed this little ceramic angel figurine. You could smash it, you know, if you want.”

He smiled in spite of his anger. “How about instead of breaking things we build something?”

“Like what?”

“Like a life together. Away from Beomfleet. Where do we start?”

She considered it for a moment. “What kind of resources do you have?”

“Without Sig? Not much. I know a few folks that might help, the ones too radical for the militia. Then again, they might not have any interest in me given what I’ve been a part of. I also have a thorough knowledge of all of Sig’s security, naturally. Besides that, I have this car–though to be honest, it’s probably traceable–two axes, a gun, and a good chunk of cash.”

“That’s…scary but probably useful.”

“What about you? You’ve got a whole nation at your beck and call, right?”

“Not when it comes to running away with the enemy. I have money, a lot, but I’m not sure how quickly or discreetly I can access it. I’d need some help from friends back home. And I have a switch blade.”

“A switch blade? Really?”

“It was a gift from Uhtred.” Aethelflaed gasped in excitement. “Uhtred! I have Uhtred.”

“The man locked in a cell downtown? I think he’s worse off than us.”

“Now, but I’m going to get him released any day now. Then he’ll be free to help us. And until then, he has people. _Good_ people. Like, will crash a car into a police station for you people.”

“What a strangely specific example.”

“It happened. It was a mess.”

“But why would he help us? What’s in it for him?”

“My dear cynical Erik, some people help others just out of the goodness of their heart.” Erik stared at Aethelflaed. “Plus, he loves me, hates Sigefrid, and has no qualms about lying to my father.”

“Uhtred,” Erik said, as if trying to talk himself into the idea.

“Uhtred.” Aethelflaed repeated with confidence. “Now can we please go upstairs? I have never been this cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have really enjoyed all the great takes on Aldhelm on here and Tumblr, so I gave him more time than I was planning to. But: I feel like it's too early in Aethelflaed's story to be too easy on him. He did some shitty things, or he stood by and watched Aethelred do shitty things, so I remain pretty tough on him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik asks Uhtred for help. Aethelflaed has an uncomfortable dinner and a more uncomfortable evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for misogyny, jealousy & threats.

For the second time in a week, Erik made his way to Uhtred’s cell. It was early in the morning and Uhtred woke as Erik entered and shut the door behind him.

“What brings you here so early, Thurgilson?”

Uhtred was irritatingly relaxed for someone in prison. Erik had been a wreck from morning until night, at least internally.

“I’m here to ask for your help.”

Uhtred scoffed. He lay back on his cot, his hands behind his head.

“Please, tell me how and why I would possibly help _you_.”

“It’s not for me. Or, not only for me. Aethelflaed needs help.”

Uhtred stiffened. “What happened? Do we need to kill Aethelred?”

Erik laughed. “Probably. But no. She is fine. It’s just…we need help getting out.”

“Getting out of where?”

“Of Beomfleet.”

Understanding dawned on Uhtred’s face. He spoke the next words slowly and carefully. “Did you or did you not walk into this cell mere days ago and tell me it was over?”

Erik raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I did, but–”

“But what, Erik? Aethelflaed is very dear to me and I don’t want to see her ruin her life over some asshole viking who’s going to forget her in three months.”

That put Erik on the defence. “First of all, I will not forget her. I am in this for good. I am willing to give up everything for her. Second of all, aren’t you an asshole viking?”

“I’m Saxon,” Uhtred snapped.

“When it’s convenient,” Erik bit back. “And thirdly, you cannot make this choice for her. You of all people should know that–Aethelflaed needs the chance to make her own decisions. You can either support her or not, it’s up to you.”

Uhtred looked slightly chastened. “It would be a betrayal of Alfred.”

“It would,” Erik agreed.

Uhtred rubbed his chin. “She would be away from Aethelred. And you would treat her well.” It was more of a commandment than a question. “What am I meant to do from prison?”

“We won’t leave until you’re out. Aethelflaed is determined to get you released. And she said you have friends who might help in the meantime.”

Uhtred heaved a big sigh. “This is dangerous, Erik, for both of you.”

Erik lowered his voice, though he knew no one was listening. “Sig arranged the attack on Aethelflaed. He wants her…dealt with. And he left me out of it, which means he’s probably got a plan for me too. Uhtred, Aethelflaed trusts you, so I trust you. If you can just consider this, for her sake…”

“Alright, I hear you. I’ll help, if I can. Let me think about it. I’ll have something for Aethelflaed the next time I see her.”

Erik felt his jaw unclench. “Thank you, Uhtred. You have no idea–”

“Yes, yes, I’m a hero. Now leave. I have fifteen more minutes to sleep and I’m not wasting anymore of them on you.”

After a truly trying day in court–Aethelred was as good a witness as he was a fiance–Aethelflaed found herself in a situation straight out of a nightmare. She was sitting around a table about to have dinner with Sigefrid, Erik, Aldhelm, and Aethelred.

“Will Lene be joining us?” Aethelflaed tried not to sound _too_ desperate.

“No, she’s busy,” Sig replied, “but Alva might stop by later.”

Aethelflaed shut her eyes for just a minute and sent a wordless plea out into the universe. _Please, Alva, please come and rescue me before this evening goes terribly wrong_.

“We should thank you for being such excellent hosts during Aethelflaed’s stay,” Aldhelm said. “She says you have made her quite comfortable.”

“Yes, my brother Erik sees to her every need, don’t you, brother?” Sig patted Erik’s shoulder, though it looked fairly forceful. Aethelflaed thought back to her debutante training. There had actually been several sessions on how to manage difficult social conversations and Aethelflaed drew on every ounce of that training to keep from reacting to Sig’s innuendo.

“I’m very fortunate,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “to have so much time to focus on my work. This case is very important to me and I am grateful that my hosts have made my stay so easy.”

“Yes, easy,” Sig muttered, only loud enough for her to hear. She finished her water, determined to ignore him.

“That is good to hear,” Aethelred said, “I imagine this will be your last major case, so you should enjoy it.”

Aethelflaed froze. “My last case before…what? Before the wedding, you mean?”

Aethelred gave the table a look like, _oh, women_. “You won’t go on working like this once we’re married,” he said, as if it were obvious.

Aethelflaed thought she could actually feel the deafening silence from the other end of the table, where Erik and Aldhelm sat.

“I’m a lawyer, Aethelred. I am going to keep practicing law, even when I am a wife.”

“Of course, don’t misunderstand me, darling. But it will be minor things–you’ll pitch in at my company, support my legal team when they need extra help. You won’t be taking on months-long cases like this.”

Aethelflaed gripped the edge of the table.

“Perhaps this discussion is best left for later,” Aldhelm said to Aethelred, his voice low and placating.

“Do women not work in Wessex? That explains why your country is so poorly run.” They all looked up, a little startled. Erik hadn’t spoken since they arrived.

“Saxon women devote themselves to their families and to the church,” Aethelred explained, “It is important work.”

“It sounds very dull to me,” Erik said, taking a long drink of his beer. Aethelflaed let out a small, delicate, very pointed cough.

“I don’t put much stock in a heathen’s opinion of our way of life. But I can assure you our woman are very satisfied.”

A derisive smile appeared on Erik’s face. “Oh, I wouldn’t oversell your skills in satisfying women, Aethelred.”

Aethelflaed coughed again, louder this time.

“Have I offended you in some way, Erik?” Aethelred puffed up a bit and Aldhelm had a pained look on his face.

“Your very existence offends me,” Erik replied through clenched teeth. “I have no idea why my brother expects us to treat you like an honoured guest when you are nothing but a spoiled child who inherited his father’s wealth and has done nothing of substance in his entire life.”

Aethelflaed fake coughed so hard that she actually brought on a coughing fit, loud enough to draw all the focus to her. She reached for her glass, but it was empty. She groped for the closest glass and downed it, desperate to ease her lungs. It was not water. It was Sig’s vodka.

They all stared at her in shock while she struggled to breathe. Except Sig. He was laughing. After a moment, Aldhelm had the sense to pass Aethelflaed an actual glass of water. She sipped it carefully. It eased the burning in her throat. She caught her breath.

“What did I miss?”

Aethelflaed looked up to see Alva preparing to sit down, pulling out the chair between Sig and Erik. She was an angel, a true saviour. Aethelflaed was going to build a temple in her honour.

“Miss Engels has just chosen choking to death over listening to Erik and Aethelred bicker for one more second,” Sig explained, wrapping an arm around Alva’s waist. “I think it was the wisest choice.”

Alva looked at Aethelflaed, red-faced and with tears in her eyes from the coughing fit. “We are going to the bathroom. Excuse us, boys.” Alva swept Aethelflaed up by the hand and led her away.

Once Alva and Aethelflaed returned to the table, the evening stayed relatively on track, though none of the men made it easy. Sig was loud, Aldhelm was visibly uncomfortable, Erik was seething, and Aethelred was suddenly deeply possessive of Aethelflaed’s body. He seemed to be touching her for the rest of the evening, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, gripping her fingers on the table or resting his hand a little too heavy on her thigh. His attention was proprietoral, like he was marking his territory.

Aethelflaed hadn’t fully explained the situation to Alva (she didn’t quite trust the woman enough for that), but Alva read the room clearly enough. She did her best to keep Erik in check, finding subtle ways to distract him from Aethelred’s behaviour.

When they finally prepared to leave, there was a sudden awkwardness. Sig and Alva took off quickly, leaving the rest of them outside the restaurant. Aethelflaed had been dropped off by one of Erik’s guards who had left her in the care of his bosses. She would usually rely on Erik to take her home, but Aethelred was standing there, expectantly.

“Let’s go, Aethelflaed,” he said.

“I can’t go with you back to the hotel,” she said, “I have to be up very early for work and all my things are back at the apartment.”

Aethelred rolled his eyes. “I’m leaving tomorrow. You can spend one night with me. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do, I just–” Aethelflaed could sense Erik lingering nearby. “I really do need my papers and laptop. If this is to be my last big case, then I need to do it right.”

Aethelred brightened a little at the implication that she would stop working. “Then I’ll come back to your place.”

Aethelflaed winced at the thought of her apartment, with Erik’s t-shirt on the bed and his toothbrush and razor on the sink. The box of condoms next to the bed. How would she explain that away?

“Just a moment, let me check in with security. They usually have some protocol I’m supposed to follow.” She stepped away, towards Erik. She led him out of earshot.

“He wants to come back with me, but your things–”

“I cleared them out yesterday. The apartment is clean. Well, it’s not clean, because you are obscenely messy, but it’s clear of me.”

“Good, good.” Aethelflaed shuffled side to side, trying to stay warm and dispel some of the nervous energy. “I don’t think I can avoid this without raising suspicions. But I’d prefer to see him at the apartment, with someone close by. Just in case.”

Erik nodded, looking slightly anguished. “Yes, I’d prefer that too. I’ll follow you to the building.”

“It might be better if it’s not you on duty tonight? You didn’t exactly keep your cool back there.”

Erik groaned. “Fine. Dagfinn is there. I’ll tell him to be extra vigilant. If you need anything at all, I will be by the phone, ok? And if he does anything, just walk out of the apartment–”

“Erik, I can handle this..”

She left him alone in the snow and returned to Aethelred and Aldhelm. She pasted a cheery smile on her face. “I’m staying just a ten minute drive away. Aldhelm, you will join us for a drink. Shall we go?”

When they exited the elevator, Aethelflaed saw Dagfinn sitting in the small office, watching them. He gave her a small nod.

Aethelred and Aldhelm settled in the living room. Aethelflaed poured them drinks, giving herself water. They began to discuss the evening, Aethelred complaining about Erik’s behaviour and the food and many other details. He didn’t seem particularly bothered when Aethelflaed stayed in the kitchen to scrolled through her emails. Odda’s statement had arrived, just as she’d hoped, with a short apology from Mildrith for the meandering (“I tried to keep him on track”). By the time Aethelflaed was finished with all her emails, it was late and Aethelred was drunk.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning at her as though she were a skittish cat.

Aethelflaed reluctantly approached him. He was sitting in the arm chair, where she had been with Erik. That thought gave her an ugly kind of satisfaction.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

“We are waiting until marriage, Aethelred, so I’m not sure what taking off my clothes would accomplish.”

They _had_ decided to wait. Aethelflaed was a good Christian girl, after all, so it was a condition of their engagement. Aethelred had agreed, probably because it would have been unseemly to push back, but more likely because he had other women to be with. Aelswith had told Aethelflaed that was normal. Alfred had many lovers, before and during their marriage, and he was a good husband. Aethelflaed wasn’t entirely sure what the definition of _good_ husband was if it encompassed multiple children out of wedlock. But she found herself totally unconcerned with Aethelred’s sex life, which, in retrospect, was a little concerning in itself.

Aldhelm looked nervous. She remembered their talk the night before–or, more accurately, her speech. Would it make a difference?

“So you’ll spread your legs for Northmen but not for me?”

“I will not ‘spread my legs’ for anyone.” Aethelflaed wondered whether he knew, _really knew_ about her and Erik, or if he was just hoping to hurt her. He’d accused her of infidelity before, back when she had never even thought of another man.

“Aethelred,” Aldhelm said, “We should get going, back to our hotel.”

Aethelred ignored him, standing up and facing Aethelflaed. “I wonder what Alfred will say when he finds out what a slut his beloved daughter has begun.”

“I think you are overtired from your flight, Aethelred. Perhaps you should get some sleep.”

Aethelred smirked. He stepped towards her, shaking off the hand Aldhelm placed on his arm. He leaned in close, his breath a cloud of alcohol. “When I have you,” he said, “and I _will_ have you, I’ll fuck you hard enough that no man will ever want you again.”

Aethelflaed felt herself begin to tremble, but she didn’t step away. She stared him down until he broke down in laughter. Aldhelm tugged on his arm and Aethelred stumbled, almost falling. He was unsteady from the drink and far gone enough that Aldhelm could lead him down the hallway to the bedroom.

Aethelflaed stood in the living room, frozen, until Aldhelm returned.

“I’m sorry for that.”

“At least you tried.” She said it so quietly that she wondered if he heard her. But something in his face, a crease of regret, told her he did.

“I can take you back to the hotel. I have the key to his room, so you’ll have a place to sleep.”

She shook her head. She would not cede her territory, as if this were some kind of battle that she could win through sheer stubbornness.

“You should leave, Aldhelm.”

”But–“

“No,” she said firmly. “This is my future, isn’t it? I must learn to handle it. To handle him. I appreciated your company this evening, but I’ll be fine.”

He gathered his things and left reluctantly, casting her a beseeching look before he shut the door. She waited a long time before gathering the courage to look in the bedroom. Aethelred was sound asleep, stretched across the bed. She crept backwards, opening and closing the front door as soundlessly as possible.

Dagfinn stood up when he saw her, instantly alert. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” she reassured him and pushed past him into the small office. She sat cross-legged on the floor. “I’m fine, Dagfinn, I swear, I just needed to…” _curl up in the corner next to a relative stranger and cry?_ “I just need to sit here, for a bit, if that’s alright.”

Dagfinn sat back down but watched her warily. “If something has happened and I don’t tell Erik, he’ll have my head.”

“Then you are safe, because nothing has happened,” she insisted.

Erik made a stop on the way home at the militia’s medical clinic. He found Leif at the front desk doing paperwork.

“Do you have a break coming soon?”

Leif looked surprised. “No, but it’s quiet tonight. I can talk for a few minutes.”

He led Erik up a flight of stairs to an empty break room.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you much more,” Leif said, taking a seat across from Erik. 

“That’s what I came to talk to you about. I wanted to apologize for being so out of touch. It wasn’t fair. I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Enjoyed. Past tense. So it’s over.”

“I think it has to be, yes.”

“Does it have anything to do with a crazy chick?”

Erik laughed, more to break the tension than out of any amusement. “We’ll see.”

Leif stared at him across the table. “What’s going on, Erik? You seem…off.”

“Things are a little uncertain right now. I can’t really–”

“–talk about it,” Leif finished for him, “Yes, I know the drill.”

Leif rose and left the room. Erik stewed in silent shame. Was abandoning him in a flueorescent break room Leif’s subtle form of revenge? But Leif returned a few minutes later carrying a large zippered bag.

“What’s this?” Erik asked when Leif slid it across the table.

“A gift.” He let Erik wait for a minute longer. “It’s a first aid kit, the best one we’ve got. It’s what our field medics carry.”

“Thank…you?”

Leif chuckled, then leaned forward, resting his hand on Erik’s. “Erik, you’re scared. I’ve never seen you scared. And to be honest, you seem like the kind of guy most people are terrified of, so I’m thinking there’s something pretty serious going on. This is my way of helping you. Whatever your problems are, if they require gauze and medical tape, then you’re fucking set.”

It was a sweet, practical, and unnecessarily kind gesture. Erik smiled at Leif.

“Thank you.”

Leif shrugged. “Good luck.”

Aethelflaed ended up dozing off on the floor of the security office. She woke up several hours later with a crick in her neck and a jacket draped loosely over her. She gave Dagfinn a quiet thank you on her way out.

Aethelred was still asleep, which was a relief. It was early, but the city was beginning to wake up outside her window. She packed her work bag and sent off a quick message to Aldhelm, reminding him to come collect his boss in time for their flight. Then she called Erik, hoping he would be awake. He answered groggily.

“I know it’s early, but I was hoping we could go to the bakery?”

“On my way.”

She waited in the lobby of the building, pacing back and forth until she saw his car.

After a few minutes of questioning glances from Erik, Aethelflaed gave in. “It was fine, Erik, nothing happened.”

“You just slept on the floor of the security office. That doesn’t seem ‘fine’.”

Of course Dagfinn told him. “He…said things. Awful things. But they were just words. If this works out, I’ll never have to see him again.”

“It will work out. Uhtred is scheming.”

“Then we’re about to do something very stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having fun with Sigefrid. He's a dirtbag but he's my (Erik's) dirtbag, and I want him to be happy. Sigefrid fics in the future? That would be a fun challenge.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for misogyny.

Aethelred had been gone for over a week. Under Uhtred’s guidance, Aethelflaed was in touch with Finan, coordinating the escape plan. Finan had a lot of say about the risks of such a plan, but Uhtred did not seem particularly bothered. The plan wouldn’t be executed until Uhtred’s release at the end of the trial.

Aethelflaed had been very confident in the outcome of the trial, but after Aethelred’s departure, the Beomfleet lawyer began to drag her feet. She asked for more time to examine evidence and pushed back on small decisions, drawing out the process. The trial was suspended for a day, then another. Aethelflaed was feeling frustrated and worried. She couldn’t make sense of it. Did they know they were on the verge of losing to her? Did they have some new evidence and just needed some extra time to get it sorted out? She put on a confident front for Uhtred, but they were both getting antsy.

Aethelflaed and Erik were asleep when the phone rang. Erik had taken to spending every night with Aethelflaed, both because of his worry for her safety and because he didn’t want to be anywhere else. He woke up first and was about to answer the phone when he remembered where he was. He shook Aethelflaed awake and glanced at the clock as she answered. 1:20 am.

Aethelflaed sat bolt upright. Her voice lost its sleepy slowness as she responded to the person on the other hand. She hung up and immediately began to get dressed.

“Uhtred is being released,” she said, tossing Erik his pants. “I need to go down to the centre.”

When they reached the holding centre, Aethelflaed was led behind a door. Erik used the phone in thelobby to check his voicemail, both at work and at home. No messages, no missed calls. Apparently he wasn’t invited to this particular meeting. He returned to his car to wait, not liking the stare of the guard at the entrance.

Aethelflaed sat down across from Lene and Sigefrid. Lene was smiling but Sig looked irritated.

“You must be very excited, Miss Engels,” Lene said, sliding a stack of papers and a pen across the table. “You are finally in a position to sign the papers for your client’s release.”

Aethelflaed flipped through the papers, written first in Norse then English. She skimmed the lines for some kind of explanation. “Has the judge laid down a verdict?”

“No,” Lene replied.

“So why is my client being released?”

“Does it matter why?” Sig asked.

“Well yes, it does. I have put quite a lot of work into this case and I want to understand why it’s coming to an end. Or if it _is_ coming to an end. Is he being released to Saxon custody? Will he be tried again, or have the charges been dismissed?”

Sigefrid rolled his eyes. “Just tell her, Lene, so I can go home.”

Lene sighed. “We have signed a settlement with the Saxon government. Alfred Engels has agreed to pay a certain sum for the release of your client. In return, we have agreed to dismiss all charges against Uhtred Bebbanburg and pursue no further legal action.”

“A settlement? For how much?”

Lene glanced at Sig. “That is confidential.”

Aethelflaed was at a loss. “Why was I not informed of this settlement sooner? As his lawyer, I should have been informed.”

“Wessex would prefer not to recognize any of the legal proceedings as valid.”

“Which…would make my involvement invalid.”

Lene smiled. “Yes. You understand.”

“So who exactly _was_ involved in this settlement?”

“Alfred Engels sent Mr. Mercer to negotiate on his behalf.”

 _Fucking Aethelred_. Her own father had gone over her head and chosen Aethelred.

“What’s important, Miss Engels, is that Uhtred is free. All you need to do is sign those papers.”

Aethelflaed felt a sudden surge of rebellion. “If my participation in this whole process is ‘invalid,’ then why do you need my signature?” Lene looked a little called out. “It’s because of how messed up this situation is, right? There is nothing legal about this, so you’re just using my signature to cover your tracks.”

“Sign the fucking papers,” Sig said, wearily.

Aethelflaed picked up the papers and flipped through them methodically, taking her time to read every page. Sigefrid groaned audibly.

Within ten minutes, she’d read and reread all the information they’d provided, which wasn’t much. She signed.

Lene beamed. “Excellent. Uhtred Bebbanburg will be released to your care tomorrow. Please be here to collect him at eight am. And, as this case is now over, you will be arranging your own transportation back to Wessex. You and Uhtred will have access to the apartment through to Friday, then we will be changing the locks.” She stood up and reached out her hand. Aethelflaed ignored it. “Well, it was a pleasure working with you, Miss Engels. I wish you an excellent journey back to Winchester.”

Sig stood next and towered over Aethelflaed. “Goodbye, wolf. Be sure to remove your claws from my brother before you leave.”

The door banged shut behind them. Aethelflaed sat in shock.

Back at the apartment, Aethelflaed frantically dialled her father’s number. There was no answer the first three times. She could imagine the phone ringing through that ridiculously large house, waking up some overworked servants. But Alfred wouldn’t be asleep on a night like this, not after what he had done. He would be expecting her. On the fourth try, he picked up.

“A settlement.”

“Hello, Aethelflaed.” He sounded tired. He always sounded tired these days. Usually that give her pause, reminded her to go easy, but not tonight.

“How could you do this? How could you invalidate all of my work? And through Aethelred, of all people.”

“I did what was best. We need Uhtred to come home.”

“I was going to win that case, father. I was so fucking close to winning the case. And you went and fucked it all up.” She must have been speaking loud enough for Aelswith to hear, as she heard a shocked gasp in the background.

“Language, please, Aethelflaed.”

“Why couldn’t you have let me finish this? Now you’ve spent god knows how much money to settle a case I could have won properly.”

“There is nothing _proper_ about Sigefrid Thurgilson’s government. If we accepted the judge’s verdict, whatever it might be, we would be recognizing Beomfleet as a legitimate state with a legitimate leader. I refuse to do that, Aethelflaed, I refuse to concede to some militia of heathens.”

Aethelflaed was shaking her head, even though he couldn’t see her. She didn’t have the words for her frustration.

“Focus on the results, Aethelflaed. Uhtred is free. He can return to his family and continue serving his community. And you can put this ugly business behind you. You can come back and plan your wedding in peace.”

“Yes, father, that’s what’s important here, my goddamn wedding.” She could almost hear him wince at her further cursing.

“We can have your flights booked first thing in the morning.”

Aethelflaed suddenly wondered if she would ever see her father again. Her anger mixed with a grief that she couldn’t even begin to measure. “No, that’s alright. I’ll take care of it. I will send the details to your secretary. Goodnight, father.”

“Goodnight, Aethelflaed. You would have done well, I think. But it just wasn’t right.”

When Sig woke up, Erik was sitting in his kitchen drinking a coffee.

“How did you get in here?”

“I’m your security office, remember? I know everything. Or at least I did. Seems I’m not being informed of much these days.” Erik watched Sig pour himself a cup. “You slept late.”

“Your little fuck buddy kept me up last night. I, for one, am glad to be done with her.”

They sat in silence for a while. Alva emerged from the bedroom, dropping a kiss on Sig’s cheek on her way to the shower. Erik almost laughed at the scene of domestic bliss.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the settlement, Sig?”

“Because you’ve been acting like such an asshole. I knew you’d try and stop it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know when you disagree me, Erik, whether you say it or not,” Sig was getting louder, his anger rising. “And lately, you seem to disagree with every decision I make. So I acted without you. And it is for the best. Engels can return to Winchester before she gets hurt. Again.”

If Erik had any doubts of Sig’s involvement in the attack, they were crushed by the weight of that last word. Erik rubbed his chin, trying to find a way through this conversation, but Sig took the reins.

“You were getting too attached, Erik. I could see it. I know you better than anyone, and I would not stand by while you lose yourself in some woman's cunt.”

“That’s why you’ve left me out, because you thought I wasn’t focused.”

“Exactly,” Sig smacked the counter in triumph. “And I need you, brother. You are too important to all this. I need you by my side.”

Erik nodded. “I think you’re right. I think…I slipped, a little.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, as if considering the error of his ways. “What can I say? She was damn good at sucking cock.”

Sig laughed, pleased at his brother’s shift in attitude. “There are lots of other women, Erik. And men. Time to move on.”

Sig rarely acknowledged Erik’s interest in men. This was his way of going above and beyond in support of his younger brother. It would have been sweet if it wasn’t totally reprehensible.

“Soon enough, brother, Engels will be gone, this mess with Uhtred will be done, and you can find someone else to suck that tiny dick of yours.”

Erik shook his head. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?” They laughed and embraced.

“I need a smoke,” Sig said, moving towards the balcony. “Join me?”

“Nah, I have work to do. I’ll see you this weekend.”

Sig grinned around his cigarette. “Good to have you back, brother.”

As Erik left, he passed Alva in the hallway. She must have been listening, just out of sight. He nodded at her but she grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. She stared at him, her gaze hard and probing, and he felt a chill run down his spine. She seemed to see right through him.

“Erik,” she whispered. “Sig is angrier than he’s letting on.”

“Sig never keeps his feelings to himself,” he said, aiming for lighthearted tone and missing it entirely.

Alva shook her head tightly. “He’s angry, Erik, at you. He sees he is losing you. He will not let you leave on your own terms.”

“I’m not leaving,” Erik lied, but she just looked at him. “Alva, I’m not leaving. Sig and I have fought before. We will work it out.”

“You can’t work it out. It’s broken. All you can do now is try to minimize the damage.”

She let go of him a little roughly and he stumbled. She slipped away, closing the bathroom door behind her without looking back. Erik felt an icy weight in his gut. This would not end smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the politics work here! I really like the idea of Alfred paying Sig off instead of respecting his authority, and how it puts Aethelflaed in the strange position of meeting her goal and having her work invalidated.  
> I also really enjoy writing pretend-dirtbag Erik.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence. Shit is getting real.

Uhtred kept pacing the apartment. He seemed to need to feel out the space after his confinement. He insisted on opening a window, though the air that filtered in was cold. Aethelflaed lay on the couch, exhausted. She had processed more emotions this week than her first ten years of life. Now that Uhtred was free, her body was telling her that the work was done. She would have to dig deep to have the energy to fight more.

Uhtred had been on the phone all morning, first with Gisela, walking circles around the kitchen with a goofy smile on his face, then with Finan and Sihtric. They needed to move the plan up. Now, at least, it would be easy for Aethelflaed to leave Beomfleet. The problem was how to take Erik with her and how to evade Saxon authorities. Someone with Erik’s record would not be welcome in Winchester and Aethelflaed was certain that her family would use their extensive influence to stop the relationship before it could truly start.

Uhtred hung up the phone just as Erik arrived. Erik sat on the couch beside Aethelflaed, curling an arm around her and holding her close. She knew he had been to see Sig and she felt a tension in his body. She leaned against him and traced circles on the back of the hand, trying to ground him in her touch. It felt strange, to be so intimate in front of someone else, but Uhtred did not care.

“We’ll carry it out as planned, just a little more…improvised,” Uhtred explained. “We’re both booked on a flight going out late tonight. There is a car set to take us to the airport, but it will drop Aethelflaed off on the way. I’ll take care of the airport end of things–”

“How?” Erik asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I have a plan.”

“That means he doesn’t,” said Aethelflaed. Uhtred glared at her.

“You two need to get to the coast. You can’t take Erik’s car, or at least not all the way. But Erik, you have someone to help?”

“We’ll drop my car outside town and an old prison buddy will pick us up.”

“Good. We couldn’t get the ship we planned on, but we have a smaller boat. It can’t handle the same journey so you’ll have to meet farther south on the coast. I’ll give you the coordinates. Finan and Sihtric will be waiting for you. You’ll travel southeast until you meet Ragnar’s ship. They’ll handle it from there. You’ll be safe once you reach Dunholm. And a warning: it might be a very choppy ride to Wessex. Finan’s fishing boat is not the sturdiest vessel.”

“Finan has a fishing boat?” Aethelflaed asked.

Uhtred rolled his eyes. “It’s called ‘The Abbess’ and he’s very proud of it. He won it in a poker game.”

“But gambling is illegal in Wessex!” Aethelflaed exclaimed.

Both men looked at her like she was a small sweet child. Erik patted her hand.

“So what now?”

Erik sighed. “I have to go behave like I’m over you and ready to–how did Sig put it–‘find someone else to suck my tiny dick.’”

“Charming,” Aethelflaed muttered.

“I’ll meet you tonight, by the bakery,” he kissed Aethelflaed goodbye. “And Uhtred–I can’t thank you enough.”

“Treat her well, that’s all I ask.” He hugged Erik goodbye.

Aethelflaed and Uhtred spent the rest of the day in a kind of limbo. She knew Uhtred was eager to return home to his family, but she selfishly wanted this time to last a little longer. He represented all the best parts of her past, and her future was so uncertain.

To reassure her, he told her stories about his brother Ragnar, who had agreed to shelter her and Erik for a while. She had met Ragnar and his partner Brida when she was a child and they were detained in Winchester. She recalled that Brida was terrifying and fascinating, while Ragnar was fierce-looking but kind, even to the child of his enemy. It could be ok, this mysterious future of hers. And she would still have Uhtred. He visited Dunholm often enough that he would know of her life there, even if her family did not.

Finally, it was time to go. Aethelflaed and Uhtred were picked up by a driver Erik trusted. They drove to a spot a few blocks away from the bakery and it was time to say goodbye. Uhtred followed Aethelflaed out of the car, passing her the backpack she would be taking with her. She was leaving her laptop with him and it felt surprisingly difficult, like relinquishing the material evidence of all she had worked for.

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Aethelflaed laughed in spite of her nerves. “I won’t.”

“You know the plan, you know where to meet Erik, you know where to find Finan. Everything will be fine.”

Aethelflaed wasn’t sure if Uhtred was saying it to reassure her or himself, but she nodded anyway.

“Uhtred…” she whispered, but he shushed her, drawing her into his arms.

“This is not goodbye, little elf. I will see you again, on the other side, when you have made yourself a different life.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “You are strong, Aethelflaed. You will do well.”

“Thank you, Uhtred.” She rested her head against his chest. He was steady and loving, as always. “You will send my love to Hild and Gisela and the children? And you will apologize on my behalf, that I didn’t get you home earlier.”

“I will apologize for nothing. I will give them your love.”

She hugged him tighter, then let him go. There was nothing left to say. 

As Aethelflaed walked away into the darkness, she realized it had been a long time since she was truly alone. Though it was late and dark, and she was in a strange place where she was not wanted, she knew she would be ok.

Erik left his half-full beer on the bar, to be picked up or poured out by someone else. He needed to be clear headed from here on out. He only had two hours before he had to meet Aethelflaed.

He wove through the crowd until he reached the other end of the bar where Sig stood with Alva.

“Erik! You found us again. I just lost at pool. I could have used your skill.”

Erik laughed and patted Sig on the back. “Not even my skill could save you at the table, brother. You’re the worst pool player I’ve ever met.”

“Alva,” Sig moaned, “You must defend me.”

“He’s right, Sig. You might as well give your money away.”

Sig rolled his eyes at them both. “Enough insults. I want to celebrate. We are rid of the Saxons once again. What do you think, Erik, will they stay away this time?’

“Let’s not waste breath on it. Let’s talk of better things. Speaking of your terrible pool skills, Alva, has Sig told you how he lost his fingers?”

“In a fight, yes? With an axe, or something.”

Erik snorted. “You’re still telling that tall tale. No, no, no, it was much less dignified,” he leaned against the bar, making himself comfortable. “There was this girl. What was her name, Sig? Ah, it doesn’t matter. What matters is she liked to bite–”

“You’re telling it wrong, Erik,” Sig interjected. “You can’t start at the end. Shut up and listen–”

They passed the next hour and a half swapping stories, with Alva laughing and jeering at their conflicting versions of events. It was what Erik wanted, to be with Sig one last time as brothers, not as soldiers or rulers or something like enemies. But it made it harder. This was the Sig he loved, the man he would have died for, once. When Sig slipped away to talk business with a shady looking man, Erik reminded himself that _that_ was the future with Sig: bad decisions and dangerous compromises. Their camaraderie was more nostalgia than anything else. He was losing something that was already gone.

Erik paid his bill and nodded at Alva.

“I’ll tell him you went home with someone. Some woman,” she said, surprising him.

He didn’t dare acknowledge the lie. He sensed she was on his side, but he couldn’t risk it. He slipped out the back exit. He would have to loop around to his car, but it was safer than seeing Sig one last time.

Aethelflaed bounced from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. She was staring into the darkened bakery, thinking about how warm it would be in the morning, full of the aroma of fresh baked bread and brewing coffee. She thought about the pastries, cakes, and cookies. Erik was giving it all up for her. She laughed a little at the oversimplification of their situation. The laugh was a cloud that hung in the light from the streetlamp.

She heard the rumble of a car and stepped back into the shadows of the building. But it was his car. He had come for her after all. She had never doubted it–except perhaps a small corner of her heart that thought this would all go wrong. But she ignored it, like she ignored the cold biting her legs. She climbed into the passenger seat, dropping her bag at her feet.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes. Are you?”

He shrugged. “I guess I am.” So he doubted a little too.

He took her to the west side of town. She hadn’t been to this area much, but she’d heard about it. It had been fairly rough until Saxons moved back in, gentrifying it over the course of the last decade. There were now a few church spires visible above the rows of neat residential buildings. But the building Erik stopped at was clearly older and not well cared for.

She followed him up a carpeted staircase to an apartment: two bedrooms, but smaller than the place where Aethelflaed was staying. Erik took the time to remove his boots. Aethelflaed could see the place was tidy and she wondered if it was him who took the time to clean it.

“Do you live here?”

“I live uptown. But I keep this place just in case. Handy when a friend needs a place to stay or when I need a place to hideout.” His voice was light, suggesting he hid from social interaction rather than actual danger, but she wasn’t so sure that was true.

“So we’ll hide here?”

“No. Sig would find us in no time. We grew up here. I used to hate it. It felt small and dark. But when I got out of prison, this place felt like a mansion.” He was moving things around as he talked, rifling through the books on the small bookshelf and reaching behind furniture.

Aethelflaed took off her boots and wandered the apartment. She peered into a bedroom: there was a bed pushed against each wall, a single lamp, a dresser, and a closet. The closet door was plastered with posters for concerts and photos of scantily clad women. Aethelflaed was peering at them when Erik came in.He looked a tad embarrassed to find her staring at the pictures.

“Only women?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Well, Sig didn’t exactly share my diverse interests. But this singer–” he pointed to a poster featuring a tall, slim men with high cheekbones and bright blue eyes, “I always thought he was pretty…well, pretty. I would even play his records sometimes, just for an excuse to look at the cover. Truly awful music.”

Aethelflaed smiled. She liked to picture a younger Erik, one who wasn’t quite so burdened, spending his afternoon brooding over a crush. “You shared a room, then.”

“Unfortunately. If you thought Sig was bad now, well…teenage Sig had boundary issues. And control issues. And a healthy…ah…drive.”

Aethelflaed grimaced. “Poor baby Erik! It must have toughened you up, though. Who would you be without those formative years of–”

“Walking in on Sig and some girl? Walking in on Sig and himself? Ah, I would have been a sweeter, softer man.”

“As if you aren’t just a walking cinnamon roll already,” she teased, kissing his cheek as she walked out of the room.

She opened the next door but stopped in the doorway. It didn’t feel right, her being here. It felt too fragile, like if she touched the wrong thing, it would all turn to dust. There was another single bed, neatly made with a crocheted blanket on top. There was a low dresser against the far wall. And there was a wooden vanity, complete with an ornate mirror and an upholstered stool. Aethelflaed could imagine what a treasure that vanity must have been. She knew enough about Erik’s mother to know she worked hard her whole life. She must have loved that vanity and the decadent time she would spend just caring for herself.

There was a picture tucked into the corner of the mirror. Aethelflaed crept closer until she could get a good look at it. It was a photograph of Erik and Sigefrid as teenagers, already tall and broad but holding themselves with the awkwardness of boys who are suddenly in the bodies of men. They were both dressed nicely, in clean white button down shirts–likely some kind of formal occasion–but it must have been late in the day because they looked a little rumpled. Sig’s shirt was open over an undershirt and he was attempting to make an obscene gesture at the camera. Erik’s sleeves were rolled up and he had his hand out, blocking Sig’s fingers from the camera’s view. They were both laughing. They did look alike, after all. In the photo, Sig had the same angle to his smile, the same softness around the eyes. She wondered when he had lost it.

Aethelflaed jumped at a clattering sound across the hall. She retreated quickly, nervous about being caught in the room. She found Erik in the bathroom, standing on a chair and holding a screwdriver in his mouth while he prodded ceiling tiles. He grunted in contentment when one of the tiles shook a bit. He grabbed the screwdriver and pried the tile out of place.

“Hold that, please?” Erik said, handing the tile to Aethelflaed. She watched as he reached half his arm into the hole, groping around for something. He grabbed an object and pulled it out, examining it in the bathroom light. It was a dead rat. Aethelflaed let out a little squeal but Erik didn’t even react, calmly putting it back into the hole and continuing to fumble around. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he chanted under his breath and then his eyes widened.

“If it’s another rat–” Aethelflaed protested, stepping back so she was no longer even in the bathroom.

“It is not,” Erik said, triumphantly pulling a white plastic bag out of the hole. “Trade, please?”

Aethelflaed stepped forward and tentatively took the bag, handing Erik the tile. He put it back into place quickly and climbed down from the chair.

“What is this?” Aethelflaed asked, following him to the kitchen where he left the chair. He grinned, washing his hands at the sink.

“Open it up.”

Aethelflaed unfolded the bag and peeked inside. It was full of money. Lots and lots of money.

“I am lucky a rat didn’t carry it off,” Erik remarked while drying his hands.

“I don’t think rats care about money.”

“Beomfleet rats are very resourceful. We need to leave.” Erik moved to the living room, picking up three smaller bags from the couch. He took the large bag from Aethelflaed and tucked it inside his coat. He folded up the next bag and shoved it deep into the pocket of his jeans. “You, too,” he said, handing her the two remaining bags.

Aethelflaed stashed one inside her coat but then held the other awkwardly. “I have girl pockets.”

“What?” He looked at her a little impatiently.

“You know, girl pockets,” she reached one of her hands into her jean pocket, demonstrating how the hand barely fit past her knuckles.

“In your boot, then. Just keep it secure and in as many places as possible.”

They were about to leave when Aethelflaed grabbed Erik by the arm. “Erik, is there anything else you want to take?”

“I don’t _need_ the poster of the singer, Aethelflaed. I’ll remember what he looks like.”

He was just trying to throw her off topic with a joke. She wasn’t falling for it.

“I noticed a photograph in the bedroom. I just wondered if you wanted it.”

Erik’s shoulders fell and she wanted to ask him one more time if he was sure about this, if it was worth the loss. But they’d had that conversation enough. “I’ll remember that, too,” he said, and opened the door to go.

They drove for an hour, mostly in silence. Eventually, Erik turned on the radio, finding some music. It was a love song. After weeks in court and Erik’s lessons, Aethelflaed was beginning to pick up Norse words here and there. She would have to learn more quickly when they reached Dunholm.

Erik pulled onto a dark dirt road. He stopped the car, then got out and walked around for a few minutes. When he returned, he looked worried.

“My friend should be here.”

“Could they be running late?” Aethelflaed asked, reaching across to rest her hand on his knee.

“No, they’re never late. Something is wrong.” He drummed the steering wheel nervously. “Five more minutes then we leave.”

“In your car?”

“We have to. If they’re not here in five minutes, they’re not coming at all.”

She nodded, though he couldn’t see her in the darkness. She could feel the tension in his leg below her hand, and he was radiating nervous energy. She pulled his hand off the steering wheel and laced her fingers through his. “It’s ok, Erik.”

“Is it?” He let out a long breath, then faced her. “Do you know how to use a handgun?”

She stiffened. “Yes. Uhtred taught me. But it’s been a while.”

Erik opened the glove compartment, reaching under the car manual for the weapon. He flicked on the light. “It’s already loaded. The safety is on, here, you push it up when you’re ready. Then you just squeeze the trigger. You got it?”

She nodded, but he could see the discomfort on her face.

“Hold it for a minute, Aethelflaed. Show me that you know what to do.”

She reluctantly took it from his hand, positioning it in her own. She traced the safety, miming how she would flick it up, then held the gun tight, like she would to shoot.

“Good,” Erik said, taking it from her and checking the safety again before sliding it into his coat pocket.

“I don’t want to use it,” she whispered.

“I know. I just want you to be prepared.” He checked his watch. “Time to go.”

When they reached the pier, a stretch of cement in a sheltered cove, there was more waiting. Finan’s boat was nowhere sight, but it was a still little early. They stayed in the car, Aethelflaed shivering a bit. Erik took her hands in his and drew them to his mouth. He warmed them with his breath and then dropped quick, precise kisses on her knuckles, one by one. It made her smile and some of the anxiety left her chest.

They both jumped a little when they heard the boat engine. There was a light on the pier and the dark shape of a boat moved towards it. Aethelflaed exhaled in relief. But just as they were preparing to leave the car, it was struck from behind. They were both whipped forward by the impact, and the action of bracing against the dashboard left a sharp pain in Aethelflaed’s hands.

“What is happening?”

“Don’t know, but we need to get out.” Erik couldn’t see the driver in the car behind him–the headlights were off–but he could see that they were backing up, preparing for another hit. He grabbed his bag from the backseat and rolled out of the vehicle, seconds before it was struck again. “Aethelflaed?” he called, struggling to his feet.

“I’m here. I’m ok,” she replied from the darkness on the other side of his car. “We need to get to the end of the pier.”

But they had only made it a few steps when Sig yelled.

“Erik! Don’t you fucking walk away.”

Erik froze. Aethelflaed grabbed his arm and tugged, wanting him to keep walking, but he turned around instead.

“Erik, you piece of shit, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying? You think you could just slip away?” Sig was standing next to the open car door, partially lit by the headlights from Erik’s own vehicle.

“Erik, we need to keep going,” Aethelflaed whispered. But she couldn’t stop him. He strode back to where Sig stood.

“Erik!” Sig’s voice was a little broken now and Erik could see the pain and rage on his face. “My brother. We have plans. We have work to do. You can’t run away from this.”

Somehow, they were hugging, though Erik couldn’t have said who instigated it. Their foreheads touched as Erik answered. “They’re not _our_ plans anymore. This world your building, I don’t want any part of it. Let me go, Sig, just let me go.”

Sig shook his head. His voice became low and desperate. “I need you, brother. You cannot betray me for some woman, some whore.”

At those words, Erik pulled back. “We are lost, brother. We are done. Let me have this. Give me a chance.”

Sig didn’t answer. Erik turned and began to walk towards Aethelflaed. She didn’t see Sig raise the gun, his arm still cloaked in shadow, and by the time she understood the burst of sound, Erik was stumbling. She caught him and guided him as he staggered to the ground, collapsing into her arms.

“Erik,” she cried, desperately searching his body for the wound. His coat was wet with blood but where was the wound? She heard a noise behind her and half turned to see Finan and Sihtric approaching. They grabbed Erik’s body, lifting him away from her. Stupidly, she held on, as if they were going to take him and never give him back. Finan pried her fingers from his arm, whispering something soothing she could not understand.

“Get the bags, Aethelflaed, and follow us to the boat,” Sihtric commanded. They were half-dragging, half-carrying Erik down the pier.

Aethelflaed stood on shaky legs and looked around for the bags they had dropped. She realized there was something cold in her hand, which was still slippery with Erik’s blood. She awkwardly wiped her hand and the gun on her coat. She would drop it. She would not use it. She did not need it.

She looked up when Sig yelled, something in Norse that she didn’t understand. He was approaching her, too fast, and she flicked off the safety.

Sig roared and raised his gun, but her’s was already up. She pulled the trigger once, twice, three times before he finally stopped coming. He crumpled to the ground.

“Aethelflaed,” Finan yelled, from the tip of the pier. “We need to go.”

Aethelflaed tossed the gun in the water, picked up the bags. She was shaking all over. She half ran to the boat, tossing the bags to Finan as she climbed on board. It was bigger than she expected, and she followed Finan into a warm, brightly lit cabin. Erik was stretched out on the floor, Sihtric bent over him.

“I’ll drive, you fix him, Sihtric,” Finan was already steering away from the pier, out into the inky black water. “There’s a first aid kit in that trunk.”

“No, no, I’ve got one here,” Aethelflaed said, tearing through Erik’s bag.

Sihtric laughed in relief when she opened the well-stocked kit. “Press your hand here. Maintain pressure on the wound.” Aethelflaed took his place while he rifled through the kit, pulling out supplies.

“Is he going to be alright? He’s going to be alright. Erik, it’s ok.” Aethelflaed’s voice was a weak whimper she hardly recognized. Did it even come from her? Erik was staring at her with vacant eyes.

“Sig,” he muttered. “We need to wait for Sig. Can’t leave him behind.”

Sihtric gently pushed Aethelflaed aside and began to treat the wound. He asked her for something but she didn’t hear him. She felt hollow.

“Aethelflaed!” he snapped.

“I think I killed him,” she whispered. “Sig. I killed him.”

Sihtric saw her shock and he fought against it. “Aethelflaed, that is the past. I need you in the present, ok? I need you right here, in this moment. Erik needs you. Are you here?”

She met his eyes and nodded.

“Good. I’m going to clean the wound, then I’m going to dig out the bullet. You’re going to hand me supplies and soak up as much blood as possible. He’s going to be in pain, more pain, but you’ll be with him. You’ll get him through this. Open that bottle.”

Erik had a dream once, of their future. In it, her hair is long and it hangs loose over her shoulders. She is hunched over the kitchen table. She has been writing something, but she won't tell him what, not yet. Her smile is crooked whenever he asks.

He is baking bread and the smell of the yeast fills the kitchen. He leaves the dough to rise and fixes himself something to eat. He sits down across from her. He doesn’t peak at the paper, though he wants to. She tries to sneak a sip of his coffee, but he pulls it back. “Not good for the baby.” She rolls her eyes and takes his toast instead, devouring it in three big bites. He sighs and stands up to make more, but she grabs him by the waist, pulls him in close so she can rest her head against his flour-dusted shirt. 

His back is to the door. There is no need to keep watch. Not anymore.

“Where are you, love?” Erik’s voice was strained and he gasped as Sihtric dug into the wound with tweezers.

“I’m here.” Aethelflaed clasped his hand in her own. Her hand was sticky with blood, but so was his. She squeezed his fingers. “I’m right here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! I didn’t want this to be a fix it, but I’m too much of a coward to straight up kill Erik. So I left it hanging. Also a cowardly move, I know. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who put forward excellent names for Finan’s boat. I stuck with my first idea, The Abbess, because Finan lives in awe of Hild.
> 
> Thank you for reading this and for your comments. I liked creating this little world and giving Erik and Aethelflaed lots of flirty and smutty moments. 
> 
> I’m going back to The Prisoner now, so that should be wrapping up sometime in the next month. And then: Sigefrid oneshots as far as the eye can see. (I’m joking). (I’m not joking).


End file.
